Prisoners of History
by foreverandnow
Summary: Remus Lupin never questioned his friend's guilt. Until, one day, he did. His change of heart will change everything. AU story.
1. Prologue

**A/N:** I've been reading in the HP fandom for a while now, but this is the first story I've written. I have many more on my computer, but this one is **nearly** complete with just those pesky end paragraphs to wrap up. It also has a sequel which is well underway. Please note, although this story is about Remus and Sirius, it is about their friendship and is not slash. Nothing against it…just not the story I'm telling. Harry will be joining this story as well, as the Sirius and Harry relationship was my favourite part of the HP saga and the part I mourned the most. The title of this story comes from Sia's "I'm In Here." I do not own the song, the lyrics, or Harry Potter.

_Prologue_

Remus Lupin gazed out the window at the rolling black hills behind his house, unable to stop a flood of bittersweet memories from washing over him. They always came to him this time of year, and though the ache was always there, it was particularly acute on this, the anniversary of the day it happened. Five years ago, he'd been standing in this very house going about his normal business, quietly preparing himself for bed and trying not to think about the ever-growing threat just beyond his safe little cottage in the woods. Dumbledore was concerned, concerned about werewolves and other Dark Creatures being recruited to Voldemort's side, and Remus knew a time was coming that he would be forced to reckon with his true nature, to abandon the simple life he had known and risk it all for this cause. He was spared from that fate when the war came to a sudden, abrupt end, and end that cost him nearly everone he ever held dear. He wondered now if it was normal for one to miss his friends this much, five years after the loss. Many people had lost loved ones in the War, but most of them carried on with their lives. They grieved and mourned and never forgot, but they didn't spend hour after hour looking out the window and imagining moonlit nights of running about with their best friends.

Then again, perhaps it was the unnecessarily brutal way it all ended that made it so hard to move on. He hadn't just lost his friends that night; he lost them to each other. They had been there for him at a time when no one else was, and he still dreamed at night of James and Sirius coming to him to demonstrate their newfound ability. He'd been horrified but strangely touched, and he knew it was a bad idea, but it was incredible to have friends who cared so much they would risk Azkaban to be with him even knowing what he was. He was something most people feared, but not James and Sirius, and eventually, Peter had come along, too. Hogwarts was the happiest time of his life because of those three. Then one day they were gone, along with Lily, who had come to be equally important to him. James and Lily were betrayed by their best friend, Peter was murdered, and only he was left. He couldn't understand why Sirius hadn't come for him as well, but perhaps Sirius knew that leaving him here alone was a fate worse than death. He was left with the memories, the knowledge of his own failure in this. If he had only told James of his suspicions, if only he hadn't been a werewolf so that they could have trusted him to be their Secret Keeper and Harry's guardian. The boy was lost now, sent to live with muggle relatives, so Remus could never see the little boy who had once been the light and hope of all their lives.

He couldn't explain why tonight, the fifth anniversary of James and Lily's murder, was worse than all the others. He couldn't explain why he missed James tonight more than ever. And, more than he cared to admit, he missed Sirius, too. He missed Sirius as he had been – vibrant, alive, loyal, and brave. James and Sirius had been better than brothers to him, and perhaps he could have handled losing one of them, but losing both…it was unbearable. He wondered if James and Lily had known of the betrayal before their death, if Voldemort had told them, just to torture them in their last moments. The Sirius he had known, the Sirius he had _though_t he'd known, would have died before he let harm come to the Potter family, and so the result would have been devastating to James and Lily. Did James think of his betrayer as he died? Did Lily look at her baby boy and wonder how they had been so mistaken as to place their fate, and Harry's, in the hands of their murderer?

For the last few nights, Remus had been struggling with the _why_ of it all. For years he put it from his mind, accepting that Sirius, like so many, had been won over by the Dark. Considering his family lineage, perhaps it shouldn't have been so shocking. But then again, it was his family background that made it even more shocking as well. Sirius had run away from his family and never looked back. He was disowned by the Blacks, and he was proud of it. To run back to them, to desert those who had cared for him and looked after him…it was senseless. Perhaps he should try once more to put it from his mind, but he couldn't get past the betrayal he felt tonight, and he needed to know how Sirius could have done it to all of them. He still remembered the first time they'd all seen Harry, and perhaps Sirius was just that good an actor, perhaps he hadn't gone to the Dark yet, but dammit, he had looked overjoyed. When they named him godfather, he beamed with pride and threatened to spoil the boy silly. There was genuine love in his eyes every time he saw the first child of a Marauder. How then, could he betray that boy, steal his parents away from him, try to kill him? In the lonely weeks and months that followed that bloody Halloween, many tried to tell him he simply couldn't understand a madman, couldn't understand the evil that lurked just beneath the surface. But Remus had never been able to convince himself that Sirius had been Dark all along. There were too many times his friend had saved him, too many times he had seen the real warmth and friendship in his eyes. It made the betrayal that much harder to bear, but he could never believe that the friendship hadn't been real. Once upon a time, they had been best friends, and now Sirius Black had left him alone in the world.

_You're a sentimental fool_, Moony, he scolded himself as he wearily trudged up the stairs to his room. Tomorrow would be better, when the anniversary passed and he no longer had to remember all he had lost. There would no newfound joy in the morning, no new friends to fill the emptiness, but another year without them had passed, and now he would carry on as he must, as he always would. He eased himself into his bed and stared up at the ceiling, finding his thoughts drifting away to Harry. He had so longed to take the boy, but the closeness between James and Sirius was not the only reason they chose Sirius over Remus himself. Once a month he would think nothing of ripping the little boy to shreds, and despite the fact that James and Lily had never once cared about his Lycanthropy, they knew they had to care for Harry's sake. The Ministry would never allow him to become the legal guardian anyway, but now that he had been given away to muggles, Remus was never even allowed to see the child. Sirius had been the one constantly buying toys and bragging about the Quidditch player his godson would become, but Remus had loved the boy, too. For a time, that boy represented their hope, and now, he was the only proof that James and Lily ever existed. _How could you, Sirius_?

He was just beginning to drift off to sleep when he heard a voice. _He couldn't, Moony. You know that he couldn't._

Remus sat bolt upright at the ghostly voice of a friend long-dead. "James?" he whispered into the darkness. He didn't hear the voice again, but he suddenly felt cold with dread. Climbing out of bed once more, he found himself drawn to the desk sitting in the corner of the room. He opened the top drawer and extracted a stack of photographs. He rifled quickly through them, not pausing to linger at the smiles on the Marauder's faces in each photograph. There was one in particular that he had to find.

"Aha!" he said aloud as he located the one he was thinking of. The photographs had been Lily's, found among her belongings after her death. She was assembling a scrapbook for the Marauders, a visual history of their friendship along with the beginning of their legacy – Harry. In this photograph, Sirius was holding baby Harry, tossing him carefully up in the air and bringing him back down. The little boy was grinning, Sirius was beaming, and he, James, and Lily were watching with amusement. There was something strange about the photograph, something he felt he should notice, but all he could place was the look of pride and happiness on Sirius's face. Remus watched the moving picture a bit longer, watching as Sirius tossed the boy and then cradled him close, tenderness obvious in the way he held him.

Knowing he would never go back to sleep tonight, Remus donned proper robes again and stepped into the fireplace with a handful of Floo powder. "Dumbledore's office," he called, then disappeared into the flames.


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N:** I realise I gave you absolutely nothing to go on in the prologue, so I decided to go ahead and add the first full chapter. I also neglected to explain some of the thoughts behind this story, so a quick debrief is probably in order. Sirius Black is my favourite Harry Potter character, and though I'm stirred most by his friendship with James and the godfather/godson relationship with Harry, I wish we'd gotten to see more of Remus and Sirius. Sirius was awfully quick to forgive his friend, and vice versa. It always bothered me that Remus would never question his guilt. Even in a time of the deepest distrust and suspicion, I would always hope that true friends could not so easily believe the worst, even if all the evidence pointed to the obvious conclusion. There had to be a time that Remus questioned what made him do it…but I suspect the answers were too difficult to see it through. This is my attempt to rectify it…a what if that explores the world that might have been if Remus had dared to ask those difficult questions and get the difficult answers. I personally think Remus has a hard time acknowledging his own guilt and examining his own faults…after all, he never tells Dumbledore about Sirius being an Animagus because it means exposing what he allowed his friends to do. He thinks Sirius is a murderer, but he keeps the secret to protect himself. There's a Gryffindor in there somewhere, but sometimes, I suspect it's hiding. So with that long-winded and unnecessary explanation, onto the first chapter!

_Chapter 1_

Azkaban was as dark and imposing as the pictures made it out to be, its silhouette against the velvet blackness as terrifying as every nightmare he'd ever had of the wretched place. It was a necessary evil, he knew, but as his boat docked on the shores of the island, Remus still felt himself shudder. He could feel the darkness and the pain seeping out of those stone walls, and the temperature significantly dropped the closer he drew to the foreboding prison. Even the cold breeze across the water felt warmer than the churning winds around Azkaban, and he clutched his cloak a little tighter around himself as the guard who brought him here cursed under his breath. There were Anti-Apparation wards on the island, forcing visitors to ride in small boats along with one of the few human guards of Azkaban. It was tough work that no one wanted, due to the proximity with Dementors, and that, combined with the absolute horror of the place, ensured that the prisoners of Azkaban received few visitors. Remus wondered now if he had been crazy to do this.

Two days ago, Albus Dumbledore kindly sat with him through the night, listened to him, counselled him. He reminded Remus that closure and understanding could not bring James and Lily back, could not restore Sirius, could not give him Harry. Seeing Sirius rotting in this forsaken place wouldn't bring Peter from the dead, nor would it ease Remus's loneliness and yearning for the life he had once known, a life of friendship and happiness and hope. Nothing could give back what had been lost, but in the end, Dumbledore had understood the desperate need to simply _know_. For five long years, Remus struggled with unanswered questions, questions he barely dared to voice in his own head. It was until two days ago that he even acknowledged his own doubts and finally allowed himself to actively wonder how Sirius could do it to James, to Lily, to Peter, to Harry…and to Remus himself. And so now, two days later, Remus found himself with an appointment at Azkaban with the only other surviving Marauder. The Dementors were expecting him – an unpleasant thought, indeed – and Sirius Black would soon have many questions to answer. Remus intended no mercy to the man who had stolen his friends and his hope, who had ripped away his only chance left at a normal life despite the curse that plagued him every month. The Marauders had been his saving grace, and in one horrible night, Sirius Black stole it all away.

His wand was confiscated by a wizard guard at the entrance to Azkaban. His fingers itched for its safety as he felt the chill of the air, and he couldn't deny his fear at confronting Dementors without the safety of his Patronus. The Dementors were under the control of the Ministry and would not attack him, but it didn't make them pleasant, and it didn't take away that cold feeling of despair that washed over him every time one came near. He hurried quickly to the visitation room and took a seat at a small table, anxious to be rid of the troublesome creatures and more anxious for Sirius to arrive.

A few minutes later, his anxiety was rewarded.

He really shouldn't have been shocked. It was Azkaban, after all. Men went mad within days, and Sirius had been here five years. He should have expected a changed man, a man who was shell of what he used to be, but in his mind he had still imagined Sirius Black as he last saw him. To Remus, a rather ordinary boy of a humble family, James Potter and Sirius Black had always been larger to life. Even as they became the best of friends, the two remained somehow apart, untouchable by lesser mortals. Sirius had the refined airs of a Pureblood, the devil-may-care attitude of a rebel, and the self-confidence of a young man who knew his looks and abilities would take him far. Sirius always had a cool, aristrocratic charm, and it seemed impossible for him to be changed. But this was not the man he once called brother, not the man he spent seven years with at Hogwarts. In fact, he looked more like a walking skeleton than a man, and he was only walking by the loosest definition of the term, held up by two dementors and then unceremoniously dumped at the table. His wrists and ankles were shackled, his always long hair now hopelessly tangled and messy. The once tan, healthy face was gaunt and shrivelled, his skin pale as death and his eyes dark and haunted. Worst of all, he was emaciated beyond belief, his dirty clothes in tatters and hanging off a frame that hardly seemed living. "Hello, Sirius," he managed, swallowing past the lump of thick emotion that had risen in his throat. _He deserves this_, he tried to remind himself as he looked at the dying form of his former friend. Sirius Black deserved to decay and rot for what he had done to his friends, and as soon as Remus knew why, he could walk out of here and know that Sirius Black would indeed suffer for what he had done to them all. It should bring him comfort that even the mighty fell eventually, that there was true justice in the world despite everything he had seen to the contrary.

Sirius said nothing, seeming not to notice Remus at all. After a moment, Remus realised he was shaking, and he remembered that Sirius would not be able to speak much until the effects of the Dementors wore off. As much as he hated to extend even the slightest kindness to the traitor, he needed to get what he came here for so he could leave and never look back, never think again on the friend who betrayed him and left him alone in this life.

"Here," he said, roughly shoving a piece of chocolate towards Sirius. "Eat."

Sirius didn't reach for the chocolate, and Remus wondered just how far gone the mind was. Perhaps he wouldn't get what he came here for after all. Perhaps there wasn't enough left of Sirius to explain.

"Sirius," he tried again, still receiving no response. He thought for a moment, then picked up the chocolate. "Padfoot," he said quietly, once more offering the chocolate. It finally seemed to get Sirius's attention, and he looked up sharply, some vague sort of awareness finally appearing in his deadened eyes.

Bony hands finally reached for the chocolate, and Sirius then shoved it greedily into his mouth. There was something disturbing about the desperation from a man who had never wanted for anything, who never had to ask. Remus wanted to look away to avoid the feelings that washed over him, but he could not reveal his weakness to Sirius, no matter how far gone the man really was. After a moment, Sirius's quaking began to subside. "Moony," a hoarse voice finally said, the recognition flittering over Sirius's thin face.

"Don't call me that," Remus demanded coldly. "You've lost that right. You lost that right the night you killed James and Lily."

Sirius visibly stiffened at the names. "James," he whispered brokenly.

"Yes, Sirius. James," he said gravely, inwardly delighting in the suffering the name seemed to provoke. It served him right. He should be forced to remember the best friend any of them ever had, the best friend who had defended Sirius, who had offered him a home when he had nowhere else to go…the best friend Sirius had betrayed and killed. "I'm here about James. To know how you could do it. He was your brother. What about Lily? What about Harry? You swore to protect them! How could you abandon that so easily? We vowed once to always protect a fellow Marauder, no matter the cost. How could you betray James? How could you betray Harry?"

Sirius trembled again, his hands shaking as he looked frantically around the room. Remus watched for a moment, uncertain what Sirius was looking for, but perhaps he really was just mad. "Harry," he breathed after a moment.

"Don't say his name," Remus commanded forcefully, fighting his feelings of revulsion as the innocent boy's name spilled from murderous lips. "You killed his parents."

"No."

"Yes. You betrayed them to Voldemort. Can't remember that now?" he taunted cruelly. "Shall I remind you how they were found? House ripped to pieces. James and Lily lying cold and dead as Harry sobbed and screamed for his mummy?"

"No," Sirius whispered again, this time a bit more desperately. "No, no."

"Yes, Sirius!" he shouted. "Dead! Because of you! Because you promised to protect them and then sold them to Voldemort!"

"No!" Sirius cried raggedly, dropping his head into his hands and beginning to shake all over again. But Remus had no pity for him as he once more allowed himself to give in to the rage and the hurt and the despair.

"Tell me," he demanded. "Tell me why. Tell me how you could do that to them."

"Wormtail," Sirius spat bitterly.

"Yes, you killed him, too. You killed them all."

Sirius laughed like the complete madman he'd clearly become. "Kill?" he asked. "Kill Pettigrew?"

"Yes, Sirius. Tell me why you killed Pettigrew."

"So you haven't found him."

It was oddly the most lucid thing he had said, and yet it made no sense. "There wasn't enough of a body to find, Sirius. Only a finger. You saw to that. Don't you remember?"

"Seen any rats missing toes?"

Remus frowned, not understanding. It had been a bad idea to come here, a bad idea to interrogate a man who was clearly out of his mind. "I didn't come here for games and riddles. If there's even one part of you still in there, Sirius, tell me how you could kill Lily and James. How you could kill Peter. They were your _friends_. They took you in when no one else would, when not even your own family wanted you. James protected you from your parents. He stood up for you. His family became yours. They loved you. _James_ loved you, as did Lily and Harry. How could you do that to them?"

"Switched places."

"What?"

"With Peter."

Remus sighed again, shaking his head at the futility of extracting information from a man affected by Dementors for five years. It was practically a miracle Sirius could even recognise him after all this time; most men were completely gone within weeks of arrival of Azkaban. He rose, ready to abandon this fruitless quest.

"Moony!" Sirius called brokenly just before Remus could summon a Dementor to return Sirius to his cell. He turned around sharply, surprised to find real emotion and desperation on Sirius's face. "Find him!" Sirius demanded. "Find Wormtail."

"Wormtail is dead, Sirius!" he cried in frustration. "You murdered him!"

"No," he whispered, shaking his head over and over as he began to cry. Remus watched suspiciously, then, without completely understanding why, he sat back down. "It was him, it was him," Sirius chanted.

Something stirred inside of Remus, and he reached for more chocolate and pushed it across to Sirius. "Eat," he ordered again. Sirius picked it up and did as he was told, a little more awareness returning to his features as soon as he swallowed. "Now talk."

"You came, Moony," he whispered. "You came."

"I came for answers. I didn't come for you," he answered coldly. "I came because I need to know how you could betray our best friends and orphan their little boy."

"It was Peter. Fidelius."

"Peter wasn't Secret Keeper. You were. Do you remember that? It was decided, Sirius. You were their best friend and Harry's godfather. It was your job to protect them. They trusted you with their lives, with Harry's life, and you betrayed them. You handed them over to Voldemort without a second thought."

"It was too easy," Sirius wept, his withered body shaking with his sobs. "We switched. We switched! Peter for me!"

A horrible chill ran through Remus as he finally understood what Sirius was trying to tell him. But no, it couldn't be. That couldn't be right. Sirius had been here for five years because he was guilty, because he sold his best friends to the Dark Lord. It was truth, it was fact. Nothing else was possible…was it? "Are you saying," he began carefully, "that James made Peter his Secret Keeper?"

"It was him! It was him!" Sirius shrieked again. The noise drew the attention of an auror assigned to watch over the meeting, and soon, Sirius was roughly grabbed by the shoulders.

"That's enough out of this one. Time to go back to your cell, Black," the man said.

"No!" Sirius cried in desperation. "No, no! Moony!"

"Wait a moment!" Remus demanded. "I need to speak with him! We aren't finished yet. I have more questions for him."

"Time's up. We'll get him back to the Dementors."

"No wait, you can't," Remus insisted once more as they started to drag Sirius away.

The realisation must have hit him then, and Sirius was suddenly more alert than he'd been all evening. "It was too easy! I was godfather! I was his best friend! Everyone would know! But Peter…never Peter!"

"Enough!" the guard shouted again.

"I'm not done with this man!" Remus tried to argue, suddenly frantic to keep Sirius here, to keep him talking. The story was impossible and ridiculous, but the instinct to fight for his friend was too great to be overcome by trivial logic.

"Moony!" Sirius begged, trying his level best to fight off the guards. He was clearly no match for them anymore, but he still put up a gallant struggle. "Don't leave me, Moony. James…Harry…" The terror and desperation in his words and expression threatened to send Remus to his knees. Even if he was guilty, this man had once been his best friend. It was impossible not to see this suffering and ache to stop it.

"Wait," he tried again, but his efforts were in vain. Sirius was out the door before he could do anything, and he heard the terrified shrieks as he was returned once more to the Dementors. The sound would haunt him for weeks and months to come, he was sure. No matter what Sirius had done, they had once been close as brothers. Now he was being tortured and destroyed, little by little, bit by bit, and Remus had to hear the screams as it happened.

Shaken and not sure what to think about what just transpired, he sat alone in the room for a while, wondering if it could be possible that Sirius was telling the truth. Any man would go mad under the influence of the Dementors here, and he had no doubt a desperate man would try anything to get free. It was possible that Sirius was manipulating their old friendship to convince him to plead his case. But it was just short of a miracle that Sirius could speak, much less concoct an elaborate lie. And he had been in Azkaban without any sort of trial. For five years, no one had asked Sirius what happened that night. If Peter had indeed been Secret Keeper, five years had passed before there was anyone to listen to Sirius. The thought of Sirius locked up in here with the Dementors, slowly being driven out of his mind, when the real traitor somehow slipped away unnoticed…was that how Sirius had stayed sane? Was it his own innocence and the knowledge of the real perpetrator that kept him alive?

Remus stood up, steeling himself for the Dementors once more as he stepped outside the small room and began towards the exit. If there was even the slightest chance that Sirius was telling the truth, there was no time to waste. He wouldn't last much longer in here, and if Peter was still alive, he was the one who deserved to be here, he was the one who should be starving and losing his mind.

Again, there was only one place for Remus Lupin to go. He was eternally grateful Albus Dumbledore was the kind, welcoming man he was, or these late-night visits to speak about the long-dead would not be so well-tolerated. Anyone else would tell him to leave the dead to their graves and let well enough alone. James and Lily were at peace now where Voldemort could never hurt them again. Harry was safe with his aunt and uncle in Surrey, growing up away from the fame his name and his scar would bring him. Sirius Black was facing a lifetime of pain and suffering for the damage he had done, and so Remus should be content to move forward with his own life. But Sirius's words would haunt him until he knew the truth. Deep down, he knew a part of him was desperate to believe it because it meant he was no longer alone. He missed his friend more than he cared to admit, and the idea of his innocence was intoxicating. He couldn't deny the fantasies his lonely mind conjured as he Apparated into Hogsmeade and then began the long cold walk up to Hogwarts. Fantasies of a life where his friend was alive and well and free. Fantasies of spending Halloween drinking to the memory of Lily and James instead of sitting alone in his cold, empty house missing them. Fantasies of seeing Harry from time to time, telling the boy stories of the mother and father Remus had loved so. Yes, a part of him was hoping it could be true to ease his own pain. But another part, a very important part, knew that truth was the most important thing of all. Sirius Black never had a trial, and even if he was guilty, there were secrets that needed to be known, justice that needed to be done. And so he would pursue this course, no matter the devastation it brought to his own sanity and reputation.

"Mr. Lupin," Dumbledore acknowledged when Remus finally reached his office. "I thought I might see you tonight. Did you find the answers you were searching for?"

"I'm not certain," he sighed heavily, sinking into a chair across from the Headmaster's desk. He proceeded to explain his visit to Professor Dumbledore, explaining what Sirius had said and the doubts and suspicions his words caused. "Do you think he could be telling the truth, Professor?" he asked anxiously.

"You knew Sirius Black better than most, Mr. Lupin," Dumbledore remarked gently. "You were as close to him as a brother while you were here at Hogwarts. I rarely saw one of you without the other three. What do you believe of the man you once called your friend?"

"I suspected him, even then," he admitted. "And yet now I can't remember why."

"Because of all of you, he was closest to James and Lily," Dumbledore explained easily. "Who better to suspect?"

"But Peter was the more likely traitor. He always felt on the outside. He was always….different," he managed, thinking hard on the boy who had always tagged along with them. They always tolerated Peter's presence and even considered him a part of their group. No doubt they vowed the same allegiance to Peter as they did each other, but there was no denying that Wormtail had been, in a way, an outsider all along. He was accepted because they pitied him, and though he was ashamed to admit it, he made them feel better about themselves. Peter had so long worshipped the other boys that it felt nice to have him around, made them feel like good people, made them feel admired. "I never suspected Peter. It never crossed my mind," he told Dumbledore.

"We often overlook the most obvious answer."

"There's something else you should know, Professor," Remus admitted, knowing it was time to explain his own betrayal to Dumbledore, who had risked much for him to bring him to Hogwarts. "When we were all in school, James, Peter, and Sirius learned to become Animagi. James was a stag, Sirius a dog, and Peter a rat. If Sirius is telling the truth, Peter Pettigrew is still alive and most likely hiding as a rat. It would be impossible to find him. James and Lily are the only ones who could tell us the truth, and they're dead."

"Except for Mr. Black himself."

"He can hardly be trusted to tell the truth," he said wryly. "He has every incentive to lie. It could be an elaborate ruse to convince me of his innocence so that he can finish what he started."

"Can you think of no other way we could ascertain the truth of the matter?" Dumbledore asked, a slight twinkle to his blue eyes as he waited for Remus to work out the solution for himself.

"I already thought of Veritaserum. But it would still be possible for him to lie, if desperate enough."

"I've found my pensieve to be a quite useful device in sorting the truth from memory," Dumbledore remarked, and suddenly it made sense. Of course! A pensieve. It was, of course, possible to tamper with memories, but Sirius had no access to a wand in order to alter his own memories. Though he could still lie under the effects of Veritaserum, his memories could be extracted without his consent, and there would be no way for him to destroy those. "Memories in a pensieve are objective," Dumbledore proceeded. "We will see the events in Mr. Black's memory precisely as they occurred."

"But the memories may be affected by the Dementors," Remus recalled after a moment.

"Ah, but Dementors feed off our happiest memories," Dumbledore pointed out. "I am afraid these particular memories would be anything but for Mr. Black."

"I'm sorry to ask you again for your assistance, but-"

"The truth is of utmost concern," the old man smiled kindly. "I will arrange everything, Mr. Lupin. Now, I must insist that you get some rest. The journey will have worn you out, and the coming days are likely to be quite taxing."

Remus readily agreed with him, but he knew there would be no sleep until he knew what really happened to James and Lily. He used Dumbledore's fireplace to Floo home, but he did not even attempt sleep. Instead, he found himself indulging his own memories, sorting through an old scrapbook he'd stored away shortly after James and Lily's deaths. Shortly after she married James, Lily had given each of them a photo album of pictures of the Marauders during their school days, some with Lily in them. He knew now that she was working on an album for Harry, an album that would show him who he was and where he came from, an album that would never be finished. But this was the Marauders as they had been, including the honourary Marauder she had become in seventh year when she began dating James. Remus had always admired Lily for her exceptional kindness and extraordinary skill as a witch, and their friendship only deepened once she began dating James. That final year of Hogwarts was full of happy memories, the deep laughter of the Marauders joined by the sweet, bell-like charm of Lily's infectious giggle.

The final page of the album was a picture at the wedding, Lily and James both in their dress robes and flanked on either side by their friends. They were all smiling deliriously and waving at the camera, but Remus noticed now that Sirius was practically glowing with delight and Peter was set off a bit to the side, smiling brightly but vacantly. Looking at this picture, he realised what it was that unnerved him about the other picture. For Peter wasn't in that one; he'd been taking it. Everyone was happy, everyone was smiling…and Peter was behind the scenes, just as he'd always been. A chill ran down his spine as he stared at the face of the friend he'd long considered dead. _Could it have been you? _he wondered, examining the lines on Peter's face, the anxiety he'd never noticed before. Deeply unsettled, Remus pushed the album away and retreated to his bedroom.


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Thank you to everyone who has read and/or reviewed! It's not my first time at the rodeo, but this is my first Harry Potter fic, so I really appreciate reviews and reads! You're all fabulous!

Remus was nervous. No, he was more than nervous; he was terrified. A second visit to Azkaban was unpleasant as the first, and this time, there was much, much more on the line. This time, he could either win back his friend or lose him forever all over again. He hadn't slept well in the days since he last saw Dumbledore, tossing and turning each night as though the full moon was approaching. When he did sleep, he dreamed of James and Lily and Sirius and Peter. He dreamed of Sirius calling him a traitor and a coward, dreamed of Peter wearing an expression of evil and malice instead of his usual haplessness. He dreamed of James dying, of Lily shielding Harry as she was hit with a blast of green light. He wanted this over with, but no matter what happened today, the fight was just beginning.

Professor Dumbledore had managed to secure a private room for their visit today, ensuring that no one would see what transpired here in this room until the proper time arose. Remus paced anxiously as he waited for Sirius to be brought to them, worried what condition Sirius would be in and worried about the memories about to be revealed. He once thought himself as brave as any Gryffindor, but now he wondered why the Sorting Hat had put him there at all when he was afraid of a few memories, afraid of discovering the truth.

A few minutes later, Sirius was shoved roughly into the room by the Dementors. He fell to the ground, and Professor Dumbledore was easily able to help him up and into the chair. The old headmaster shared a look with Remus at the state of the man who was more corpse than human.

"You came back," Sirius whispered, his voice hoarse as he looked up at Remus. "Moony."

"I'm here to find out the truth, Sirius," he explained to him calmly, trying not to let emotion get the best of him. "Professor Dumbledore is here with me."

"It was him. Peter. It was him."

"So you've said. Now we're going to find out if that's true."

"Mr. Black," Dumbledore addressed him. "I assume you're familiar with how a pensieve works. I'm going to extract a few memories from you. I will need you to focus on the events that I ask about. Some of them may be unpleasant, so the sooner you can focus on these events, the easier this process will be."

"No," Sirius whispered, shaking his head. "No. No."

Remus held his hand up to Dumbledore to indicate that he would explain. "Sirius, we can't give you Veritaserum to prove you're telling the truth. For one, it would likely be damaging to you right now, and for another, the Ministry wouldn't accept it as evidence. We need your memories so we can see what really happened. If you're innocent, the memories will show that. We'll take them to the Ministry and they'll have no choice but to let you go."

"I can't," he shook his head frantically.

"Sirius, you must," Remus insisted. "If you're innocent, there is nothing to fear."

"James," he groaned. "Lily."

"There is no other way, Sirius. Veritaserum wouldn't be effective. Think about it quickly, and then it will be over."

"No, please, no," Sirius begged as he began to cry and tremble. Remus could hardly blame him if indeed he was telling the truth. No doubt these were the same memories the Dementors made him relive, and it was obvious the toll the visions took on him.

"Mr. Lupin, perhaps you can help to calm him while I extract the memories."

Remus nodded and sat down next to Sirius. He still wasn't sure whether he could trust the ravings of a lunatic, but if there was even the slightest chance his friend was innocent and still inside this hollow shell of a body, he knew he had to try. "It will be all right, Padfoot," he promised. He reached for a bony hand, giving it a gentle squeeze of reassurance. "It will be over soon, and then we'll know the truth for certain."

"I didn't do it, Moony," he cried weakly.

"Then there's nothing to be afraid of."

"Let's begin," Dumbledore said calmly. "Mr. Black, I'd like you to think about any discussions you had with James and Lily Potter regarding the Fidelius Charm. Think about anything you talked about with them and when the Charm was actually performed."

Sirius shook harder now, tears streaming wildly down his cheeks. He looked pained and haunted as Dumbledore held his wand up, but slowly, a silvery substance began to flow from his head into Dumbledore's wand. His breathing grew unsteady, and when the silver stream stopped, he nearly collapsed against Remus.

"Good job, Mr. Black," Dumbledore said in approval. "Now I want you to think about Halloween of 1981. I need you to recall anything that happened on that date."

"No!" Sirius gasped in agony. "No, you can't!"

"Mr. Lupin, please try to calm him," Dumbledore requested.

"Professor, perhaps we should give him a few minutes."

"I'm afraid these memories will not grow easier with time. It will be easier for him to endure it all now."

Remus nodded and moved closer to Sirius. "Padfoot," he whispered. "They're just memories now. Just do as Dumbledore says, and then it will be all over," he promised. "Think about that night. We need to know what happened."

His breathing worsened now, but once more, the silvery substance began to appear. It seemed to take longer this time, and Sirius was nearly convulsing with sobs as Dumbledore retrieved whatever memories Sirius possessed of that awful night. This time when it finished, he really did collapse against Remus, unable to hold himself up any longer. "Professor?" Remus asked worriedly as Sirius's eyes rolled back in his head. "Is this normal?"

"I believe Mr. Black's memories are far darker than we could have known," Dumbledore answered gravely. "The extraction causes him no pain, but the memories certainly do."

"He needs to stop now," he said in alarm as Sirius went limp. "He can't do this again."

"There is one more memory I need, Mr. Lupin," Dumbledore advised gently. "I know it will be difficult, but I'm afraid there is no other way."

"It will do him no good to be free if he's dead!"

"I know this is difficult to watch," Dumbledore acknowledged. "But we cannot spare him the pain now. The sooner we obtain these memories, the sooner we may be able to secure his release."

Remus nodded heavily, knowing Dumbledore was right. Still, the instinctive desire to protect his friend surged up in him, and for a crazy moment he wanted to send Dumbledore away to leave Sirius in peace. But there would be no peace in Azkaban, and he knew he couldn't protect Sirius from the last awful memory. Instead, he held his friend in his arms and tried not to think about how slight he felt. They would take care of that when this was over. "Sirius," he whispered, gently shaking his unconscious friend. "Sirius," he tried again. After another moment, Sirius stirred again and moaned in agony, his eyes blinking open. "One more, Padfoot," he told him quietly. "One more and you'll be done."

"I need you to think about the last time you saw Peter Pettigrew," Dumbledore prompted. "Think about your last confrontation."

Sirius said nothing this time, but the silvery threads appeared and spilled into the Headmaster's wand.

"Marvelous," Dumbledore said, pleased, when the memories stopped. "I shall take these back to my pensieve. Remus, perhaps you would like to stay with your friend a while longer."

Neither of them said it, but it was obvious by the use of the word 'friend' that both now belived Sirius to be innocent despite never having seen the memories in his mind. No guilty man would willingly give up the memories like that, and only an innocent man could suffer so acutely at the reliving. If Sirius had betrayed James and Lily, it would not hurt so badly to remember the night they died. "I'll stay," Remus agreed. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Take your time. A familiar face may be of great use to him now."

Remus nodded again and watched the Headmaster go before turning back to Sirius. The poor man was exhausted by the ordeal, hunched over and only half-conscious at the small table. "I'm sorry, Sirius," he apologised quietly. "We could think of no other way to confirm your story."

"My fault," the broken man whispered. "Told them to switch."

"You couldn't have known. You were trying to protect them."

"My fault. I promised."

"Shh," Remus tried to hush him. He remembered the chocolate he had brought and reached inside of his robes to extract it. He carefully unwrapped it, breaking off a piece for Sirius. "Here, you need to eat." He continued to break the Honeydukes bar into small pieces until Sirius had managed to eat it all. He only wished he could have brought real food; the Dementors did not much believe in feeding their prisoners, and most of the prisoners here were too far gone to care.

"Can I go now?" Sirius asked him. "Will they let me go?"

"Dumbledore is looking at the memories in his pensieve. He'll take it to the Ministry as soon as he can."

"But you believe me!"

"I do," he nodded wearily. "But the Ministry won't take me on my word alone. Your memories are the proof, Sirius."

All at once, the shaking began again as Sirius looked to his friend in terror. "Don't send me back, Moony," he pleaded. "Don't make me go back. You don't know…"

"It's not for long," he vowed.

"I can't go back," Sirius shook his head frantically. "I can't. Moony, please. Don't make me go. Don't give me back to them."

"You know I have no choice," he answered gently. "It's almost over now. You'll be out soon. You'll never see this place again."

Sirius dissolved into panicked tears and trembling as Remus tried in vain to comfort him. The Dementors must be even more terrifying after one had felt and tasted freedom. Away from them there was goodness and light again, and to have that stolen once more, especially after what he had just endured tonight…Remus could only hope the Ministry would not drag its feet in securing his release, or Sirius may not live long enough to see his name cleared.

Sirius soon became incoherent again, no longer aware of his friend or himself. His breathing was ragged and strained, and it sounded like something was rattling in his chest. Remus couldn't bear to send him back, not yet, but he knew their time was growing short. There was no place for Sirius to lie down in the room, so he tried to get him as comfortable as possible in the hard wooden chair as his friend continued to shake and endure his own private hell inside his mind. Remus spoke to him quietly about everything and nothing, trying to lure his thoughts away from James and Lily and the dark memories still floating about in his mind. He wondered what other terrible things the Dementors made him relive, guiltily recalling the life Sirius had lived away from Hogwarts with his terrible parents who loathed him just for being him. Sirius had for so long lived with cruelty and despair, and Remus could only vow to do all he could to change the future.

Sirius passed out again after a while, and so Remus finally forced himself to call for the Dementors. It would be easier that way when Sirius wasn't aware he was going back, didn't have to cry and plead to be let go. It still felt like betrayal to hand his friend over as sick and weak as he was, and he could only hope he wasn't sentencing him to death by letting him go. He tried not to watch as they dragged the limp form back to his cell, but he felt a thousand years old as he left Azkaban for the second time and once more headed directly for Hogwarts.

This time, Dumbledore was waiting for him. The pensieve was sitting on the desk, and Dumbledore's face was startlingly sober and perhaps even a bit pale. Remus wasn't sure he wanted to hear what the headmaster had to say, and Dumbledore seemed to understand. They sat quietly for a while until Remus could finally raise his head and nod, indicating he was ready. "It is as he said," Dumbledore informed him solemnly. "Mr. Black feared for James and Lily. He was afraid he was the obvious choice. He suggested Peter instead, so they would come after Sirius but he would not be able to tell them no matter how they tortured him. Peter Pettigrew was the real Secret Keeper."

"Oh God," Remus breathed in horror. His chest ached and his eyes stung. That sounded far more like the Sirius he knew, willing to be tortured and killed so long as he could not inadvertently betray his friends. He knew they would still come for him, thinking he was the Secret Keeper. He did not fear for himself, but he feared he would break under the torture. It was stupid and noble and entirely Sirius.

"He worked it out when he went to check on Peter and found him missing with no signs of a struggle," Dumbledore continued. "He went directly to the Potters and found James and Lily dead and Harry crying. I had already heard the news due to alarms set on the Potters' home and sent Hagrid to collect Harry. As soon as Sirius had handed him over, he confronted Pettigrew."

"Is Peter still alive?"

"I believe so, yes. Although it appeared Sirius had killed Peter, I knew what I was looking for when I viewed this memory. It was Peter who killed the muggles, and then he transformed into a rat and ran away."

"All this time," he rasped weakly. "Sirius has been in Azkaban for five years."

"The important thing is that we know now."

"The important thing is that I abandoned my friend!" he cried in agony. "My friend who would have sacrificed everything for me! Where was I when he was taken to Azkaban without a trial? Where was I when the world condemned him! I never asked…never questioned why." He dropped his head into his hands and wept in shame and despair, wept for Sirius and the life he had lost, wept for the friendship destroyed by betrayal and suspicion and lies. "I accepted what everyone said about him when I knew better. I could have done something. I could have…"

"Remus," Dumbledore addressed him. "We cannot underestimate the power of grief. Do not forget what you lost the night James and Lily died. It is understandable that you believed what you were told. We were all deceived."

"But I knew him," he shook his head in disgust.

"You did," Dumbledore nodded. "You saw the mistakes he had made."

"He was loyal," he vowed fiercely. "For any mistakes Sirius made, he was always loyal."

"Then he will continue to be so. What he has suffered is terrible, and we should all be ashamed that we let an innocent man be imprisoned in a terrible place without any sort of justice. We cannot make excuses from our failures, Remus, only learn from them."

"And what about Sirius?" he asked, his voice filled with raw emotion and pain. "You saw him, Professor. He's barely alive and losing his mind!"

"I've made an appointment with the Wizengamot on Thursday."

Remus let out a whimper. Thursday was two days now from now. For two more days, he could live free while the friend he abandoned grew weaker.

"I'm afraid it was the earliest they could assemble."

"After what we did to him tonight, I don't know if Sirius can make it until Thursday, much less until he can be officially cleared! The red tape at the Ministry could keep him there for days, weeks even!"

"I understand what this means both for you and for Mr. Black, but I must encourage patience," Dumbledore said calmly. "Your friend needs you, Mr. Lupin. He will need you in order to recover. I'll do everything I can to ensure you can keep visiting him, as I'm sure it will put him in better spirits."

"Anything I do for him is erased the moment he goes back to the Dementors!"

Dumbledore said nothing to this, and there was nothing he could say. It was true. Dementors sucked out all happy memories and fed off all happy feelings. Telling Sirius he would soon be free was not something that would comfort him for long. The Dementors would sense the joy and attack even more than before. It was obvious Sirius could not stand for much more of their abuse, and so good news was really not good news for Sirius at all.

"I do not wish to deceive you," Dumbledore finally said. "Mr. Black's pain – and your own – is far from over. But you've done a tremendous thing, and in time, your friend will see that for himself. That you never questioned his guilt may hurt, but as I recall, there was a time that you were most hurt by him as well."

"It doesn't compare," he shook his head, not wanting to think on those dark days when Sirius had betrayed his trust and nearly gotten Snape killed. When he firstlearned of the betrayal the next day, he thought he would never forgive his friend. It hurt more than he could ever express to know that Sirius had taken his darkest secret and used it for revenge in the petty rivalry. But James and Peter had been more incensed on his behalf and refused to speak to Sirius at all. As soon as Remus saw how truly miserable his friend was, his heart began to soften. It was just months after Sirius was forced to run away from home to spare his own life from the abusive hands of his maniac parents, and Regulus became more dark by the day. Sirius was unstable, unhinged, distraught by the state of his life, the loss of his brother, the uncertainty of his future. The Potters took him in without a second thought, but he was not their son, and he was forced every day to see how good parents treated a child. As much as he wanted to hate Sirius for what he had done, he knew, in his heart, that his friend had not and could not ever intend to hurt him. It had been stupid and rash, but that was just Sirius. "It's different," he said quietly. "Sirius didn't hurt me. No one…nothing happened."

"I do not mean to compare what happened while you were students and what has happened now. My point, Mr. Lupin, is that you forgave your friend for a most serious transgression, one that many would have considered unforgiveable. Somehow I suspect there was never a doubt in your mind that you would forgive him."

"He didn't know what he was doing," he answered softly. "He was…he was a good friend. He never would have…" he trailed off, realising what Dumbledore was trying to tell him.

"Everyone in our world was affected by Voldemort. It was a dark time, and our actions were not always truly our own. War can cause a man to doubt everything and everyone he has known. Your friend knows your true spirit, Mr. Lupin. It will be his salvation, and yours."

He nodded painfully, only hoping that Dumbledore was right. He could get his friend back, he didn't have to be alone anymore. But earning Sirius's forgiveness for this may be impossible, and it would be one final blow if they rescued Sirius only to lose him all over again. Loss seemed to be all Remus knew, and each one hurt him more than the last.

"I'll be certain to inform you of the proceedings, but I do suggest that you start preparing for Mr. Black's release. I suspect he may need a place to stay and someone to see to his recovery for a time."

"The Dementors," he said weakly. "You saw how they're affecting him. He's sick. How can I help him now?"

"Be there with him," Dumbledore answered simply. "The more time he can be away from them, the better he will be. And chocolate, of course."

It wasn't enough. It wasn't nearly enough, and the unspoken fears still loomed heavy in his mind. What if Sirius was truly never the same? What if he was too far gone now to ever be carefree and happy again? What if his mind was lost to the Dementors and he spent the rest of his miserable existence only half-aware of the people and things around him? He could barely even speak now, his short sentences barely coherent and his thoughts obviously jumbled and confused. He lived in a waking nightmare of memories and pain and Remus was terrified it may never end, that his sick mind could never recover from the horrors it experienced for five dreadful years in Azkaban.

And it wasn't just his mind. His body, too, had suffered horribly in prison. Starved and weak, emaciated and ill. It was impossible to know how long it had been since Sirius began to give up on life, how long it had been since he could even eat the meager meals given to him at uneven intervals during the day. His physical recovery alone would take weeks or months, and that was if they were lucky and the physical injuries hadn't done lasting harm to his weak and pitiful body.

"We cannot know the true state of his mind, Remus, but his reactions today told me much. He still remembers his friends with love and affection. He is still pained by their loss. I do not believe his mind is truly gone, and that is an accomplishment that speaks highly of his strength and determination. Sirius has not given up, and with a friend at his side, I'm certain that he will not."

TBC


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Great big thanks to everyone who has read/reviewed and the like! This story has been close to my heart for a while now, and I'm so enjoying sharing it with you and hearing your feedback! You're all fabulous, and I hope you enjoy this new chapter! Just as a heads up, little Harry will be joining the story very soon! Enjoy, and let me know what you think!

Chapter 3

For the third time in four days, Remus Lupin found himself approaching Azkaban Prison, signing himself in, feeling the chill of the dementors, and entering the small room reserved for the few visitors that ever came to see the forgotten prisoners of this god-forsaken place. His mood was considerably lighter now that he knew the truth about Sirius Black, but there was still a long road ahead of them both. Dumbledore promised to expedite the proceedings as much as possible, but it could still be days before Sirius was freed, and the guilt Remus had carried since he learned of his friend's innocence only grew worse as he approached the dark, cold prison. His own life had been bleak for the last five years, but it had been nothing compared to what Sirius endured. Even being in proximity to the place made Remus feel cold and full of despair, and Sirius had lived in here for every miserable hour of the last five agonising years.

When Sirius Black was dragged out and once more dropped at the table, Remus could barely contain his emotion. Sirius had further worsened since the memory extraction…likely_ because_ of the memory extraction, in which he was once more forced to relive what he had done out of love for James and Lily and Harry, out of his misguided attempt to protect them, even from himself. This time he could not support his own weight even a little, and he had to be carried out of the cell by the shoulders. He could barely sit up, and he shook to the point of convulsing.

"Padfoot," Remus whispered, handing him a large chunk of chocolate. Sirius didn't take it, instead letting it fall to the table. "Padfoot, eat the chocolate," he instructed gently. But Sirius was fading, his mind not his own and the effects of the dementors on his frail body more pronounced than ever. Remus had been afraid of this last night when he saw just how bad Sirius's condition truly was, but he had hoped that he would be somewhat restored today. Instead, he seemed worse than ever. "I'm taking you away from here, Sirius," he told his old friend, hoping that would reach him and give him the will to survive. "Please eat the chocolate. You're going to be free, Sirius. We know the truth now. I know you didn't betray them." He pushed the chocolate closer, then reached for a bony hand to try to guide him to it.

But Sirius was not aware of anything, even the hand grasped around his. Fingers touched, but did not feel, the restorative chocolate in front of him. At a loss, Remus rose from his seat and once more picked up the chocolate. Carefully, he sat down next to Sirius and broke the chocolate into small, manageable pieces.

"Eat," he directed. Sirius just stared at the piece of sweets, and so Remus carefully forced his mouth open and set the chocolate on his tongue until Sirius had to swallow or choke. He continued with the process until Sirius came around a bit, and then finally, his friend was able to feed himself.

"Moony," he whispered in recognition when he had finished the bar.

"It's me," he nodded reassuringly, keeping his voice soothing and gentle. "Everything will be all right now, Padfoot. Dumbledore is going to the Wizengamot tomorrow. Soon everyone will know that you're innocent. In a day or two you'll be free," he promised.

But Sirius was gone again, the little bit of chocolate not enough to restore him to sanity after all he had endured. Remus cursed himself for not finding another way to prove Sirius's innocence, and he cursed himself for having so little faith in his friend to begin with. He'd been all too quick to believe and far too late to ask questions. He had been so devastated by the deaths that he didn't allow himself to question why, when the answers could have led him to the truth and spared Sirius from five years of the worst torture imaginable. Sirius had his innocence to keep him holding on to his last vestiges of sanity, but his innocence must have also mocked him. Had he wondered why Remus didn't come for him? Had he wondered why no one came to his defense? How long did he wait for rescue, only to realise it was never coming? Remus was his last best hope, and it took him five long years to arrive.

Now, it seemed, the time for Sirius was running out. The mind was a fragile thing, and Sirius was pushed long past the breaking point. No one could guarantee whether his sanity could ever be fully restored, and now, it seemed his body was in no better shape than his mind. Forced to relive his last memories of Lily and James, forced to remember that he had, inadvertently, led them to destruction, he had given up. Remus handed him more chocolate, but once again Sirius was too distant to take it. Its effects were only minimal now anyway, not nearly enough to revive Sirius to anything approaching coherence. Remus was quickly beginning to realise that his old friend did not have time to wait for his official release. He didn't look like he could survive the night, and Dumbledore had warned Remus that it could be a matter of days or as much as a week before the Ministry was prepared to release him. Sirius could not live that long, not like this. Even if his body survived, his mind would truly be lost forever. "Padfoot," he whispered in agony, desperate to reach his friend. "It'll be a full moon next week. Remember the fun we used to have?"

His words did not reach Sirius, but suddenly, a thought occurred to Remus. Long ago, Sirius Black had sworn to him to always be there during the full moons, to run and play with him, to keep him from harming himself. But Sirius could only do that because of his Animagus form. Could they not now use that great black dog to their advantage once more? The Dementors, like his own werewolf form, recognised only humans. By turning into the dog, Sirius had a real chance to escape. Any other time, and it may not have worked. But Sirius was fading rapidly now, and the Dementors would have sensed his tenuous grasp on life. If he returned to his cell and then turned into his Animagus form, they would think he had simply died. There would be no immediate recognition that Sirius Black had escaped. They would not sense the dog leaving the cell, and it would be no surprise that life was no longer detected inside the cell. It bought Sirius precious time to escape, and then Remus would be waiting to help his friend the rest of the way to freedom and redemption and life.

It was risking his own freedom to assist an escape from Azkaban, and no one had ever accomplished such a feat anyway. But Remus was left with no options now. He let this happen to his friend, and would not stand by and let Sirius die. He lost too many people to lose his friend now, and Sirius deserved a chance to live again, to breathe fresh air, to eat and sleep and feel the sunshine warm on his skin after five years of nothing but cold and terror. Remus had never been more grateful that his friends had learned to transform; it was the only thing that could save Sirius now.

Now if he could only convince Sirius of the plan. He fed him more chocolate, explaining the plan in brief spurts only when Sirius showed signs of awareness and understanding, but even then he couldn't be sure how much his friend was truly absorbing. "Padfoot, you have to listen," he insisted desperately, wanting to reach over and shake his friend but afraid of how he would react. "You're going to get free so you can see Harry again, but you have to listen."

Instantly, Sirius perked up and looked Remus in the eye for the first time. "Harry," he whispered.

"Yes!" he all but shouted in triumph, finally discovering the key that would free them. Perhaps it should have been obvious all along that Harry held the answer. He had held their hope six years ago, and he held their hope now. Sirius had loved the boy like his own, and he had spent five long years without being able to see his godson grow. "Think about Harry, Sirius," he encouraged. "He's six years old now, can you believe that? Little Harry is six. And you'll see him very soon. I bet he looks just like his dad now. He did always take after James more than Lily. Maybe his eyes have finally turned green, though."

"Harry," Sirius repeated, a few tears leaking out of his eyes.

"You'll be declared innocent soon, Padfoot, and then he'll be yours to raise. That's what James and Lily wanted. You'll teach him about his parents, about Quidditch, about the Marauders."

"Take me, Moony," he pleaded. "Take me to Harry."

"That's exactly what I'm going to do," he promised. "But I need you to listen. You have to go back to your cell just long enough. Just a minute or two," he said quickly as he saw Sirius begin to panic. "Then you'll transform. You still remember how, don't you?"

Sirius nodded quickly, tears still running down his dirty cheeks.

"They can't sense you when you're in your Animagus form. You can slip out. I'll be waiting for you," he promised. He hadn't quite worked out how he would leave the island without raising suspicions about his sudden companion, but he could work that out later, once Sirius was out of here and away from the Dementors. "Do you understand? You need to become Padfoot. We'll be running together at the next full moon," he vowed.

"Harry," Sirius whispered once more.

"Yes, Sirius. You'll see Harry. Promise me you understand what you have to do."

"Padfoot," he nodded. "And then Harry."

Remus couldn't help smiling, just a little, at his friend's persistence. He wondered once more how he had ever doubted Sirius, but there would be time for guilt later. For now, he needed to keep Sirius aware and functioning just long enough to get out. "Here," he said, handing Sirius another full bar of chocolate. "Eat as much of this as you can." Sirius accepted and ate like the starving man that he was. "Now tell me again," Remus demanded, hoping that reinforcement would keep the thought in Sirius's mind long enough to do him some good. "Tell me the plan, Sirius."

"Padfoot," he repeated. "Come to you. Harry."

"Exactly. Wonderful," he praised his friend. They stayed together just a bit longer, but then the Dementors appeared at the door and Remus knew their time was up. He glanced across the table at his friend, locking eyes and praying that Sirius would continue with the lucidity long enough to carry out their plan. "Harry," he reminded him quietly one last time. Sirius nodded and rose weakly, barely able to hold himself up. Remus could only hope he had the strength to transform tonight, but before he could ask any last questions, the guard roughly grabbed Sirius and dragged him out the door.

For all the security on the island, it was shockingly easy to rid himself of the boat guides who would take him back to the mainland. Azkaban relied so heavily on the Dementors that the few wizard guards weren't the brightest of the lot, and it was hard to recruit the best for a job in such close quarters with the darkest creatures one could encounter. A few quick Stunning Spells and a few body binds later, just for security, and Remus had procured a boat in which to escape without alerting anyone. He made sure to obliviate, though he would be under suspicion soon enough. It would perhaps buy them just enough time for Dumbledore to explain to the Ministry, and he trusted the Headmaster to clear his name as well should the Ministry come after him. The important thing now was Sirius, and the black dog had yet to appear.

Remus paced anxiously beside the water, desperately watching for signs of his friend. He'd told Sirius to wait just a minute or two before transforming, and it shouldn't take more than a few minutes to navigate out. It had been close to twenty now, and still no signs of Sirius. Remus was growing alarmed, worried that Sirius had lost himself once more, that the dementors had simply been too much for his weakened friend. "Come on, come on," he whispered. Another ten minutes passed, and Remus's hope was growing dim.

Then he appeared. At the top of the hill, just outside the prison, Remus spotted a large black dog against the silhouette of the waxing moon. He couldn't recall ever being so happy to see his friend in his Animagus form, even on those lonely nights when he scratched and mutilated his own skin out of frustration. Whistling lowly to get Sirius's attention, his heart leapt with joy as the dog bounded towards him. "You've done it!" Remus cried happily when Sirius approached. Even as his Animagus form he was far too thin and haggard, looking for all the world like a mangy stray found in a dark alley somewhere, but he was here and he was alive, and it was more than Remus could have hoped for.

He helped Sirius into the boat, quickly shoving off. Soon they could leave Azkaban behind and never look on it again. The quicker they got away from the shore, the better Sirius would feel. It was a long, cold trip across the tossing waves, but the Dementors would fade away, and freedom lurked just on the other side. "Stay in your Animagus," Remus warned his companion as they began to drift away from the island. "We're still too close. If we're caught, jump into the water and swim," he insisted. The dog's eyes widened and he whimpered a bit in displeasure with the plan. He laid his nose on Remus's lap, and Remus couldn't help giving him an affectionate scratch behind the ear. "We won't be caught," he added to appease his friend. "Now curl up and sleep."

Sirius wasted no time obeying, curling up at Remus's feet and promptly falling asleep. Remus could feel the effects of the dementors weakening as they made it further and further from the island, and the heavy depression of recent weeks began to lift as Remus realised they were very nearly there. Sirius was free, and in a few days' time, his name would be completely cleared. His old friend was not a traitor at all, and Remus was no longer alone. He hadn't even realised what a relief it was until now, until his friend was here by his side breathing fresh air for the first time in five years. Sirius lost five years of his life, and nothing would ever atone for that. But he was only 27 years old, a whole lifetime still ahead of him. Things were different now than they had been when Sirius had been shipped off to prison, different than they had been when they left Hogwarts. Voldemort hadn't been seen since the night James and Lily were murdered, and things were peaceful again, mending. Sirius could do whatever he wanted now, become whoever he wanted. Back then, there had been only the Order of the Phoenix, only a life of fighting Voldemort. With the Dark Lord gone and his name cleared, Sirius could put all the darkness behind him and just be happy.

Of course, nothing could ever be truly wonderful without James and Lily at their side, but Harry was still alive, and now Remus could see him, too. For these five long years, he hadn't been able to see the boy he so dearly loved. As a werewolf, no one would trust him around a small child, and The Boy Who Lived was more myth than reality. Only Remus and Sirius knew the truth about the boy, that he really was wonderful, but not because of what he'd done to destroy the Dark Lord but because of who he was – the son of James and Lily, the beloved first child of the friend who had meant everything to them. For five years Remus tried not to think on the boy, tried not to imagine what he looked like, who he'd become, if he was a mischievous as his father or as sweet as his mother. Now, he was free to entertain those thoughts once more, free to imagine their reunion. Harry would probably be surprised, and more than a little overwhelmed, but hopefully in time, he would come to adore them as much as they had adored him. There were so many stories to tell him about his parents, stories his Aunt Petunia wouldn't know about, stories that would have them all rolling with laughter.

Yes, life was finally looking up again. As soon as he got Sirius well, life could begin anew.

They finally reached shore again an hour later, and they were now outside the protective wards of Azkaban that prevented Apparition. Not wanting to startle Sirius too much, he gently attempted to shake him awake. It was then and only then that grim reality settled in once more and Remus realised just how bad off his friend really was. The transformation took enormous energy, and it was a wonder he had managed it at all in his current state. Now, the dog wouldn't wake. Remus could hear his own heart pounding in his ears as he tried again to rouse Padfoot. Despite how thin he had become, Sirius's Animagus form was still a very large and very formidable dog. It would be difficult to lift him from the boat, and the longer they delayed, the more danger they were in. "Padfoot," he tried once more, shaking as hard as he dared. Finally, luminous black eyes opened and stared up at him mournfully, and Remus was afraid the transformation back to human form would require far more energy than Sirius possessed at the moment. "Sirius," he spoke quietly but urgently. "I know you're tired, but I need to Apparate us back to my house. You need to transform. Just one more time," he vowed. For the Side-Along Apparation to work, he really needed Sirius to grasp onto his arm. Anything else was too much of a risk than they could afford at present, even though the transformation would likely rob Sirius of whatever strength he had left.

It took another moment, but soon Sirius was back in his human form. He instantly collapsed against his friend, and Remus held tight to his arms to keep him upright. As soon as Sirius's fingers grasped his arm, he visualised his own living room and then felt the familiar tug at his navel as they Apparated away. It had been quite a while since Remus had to bring someone along, and as soon as they landed his lost his grasp on Sirius. His friend instantly tumbled to the ground, his eyes blinking rapidly in shock and confusion.

"Sirius," Remus called, kneeling down beside him. "Stay awake, Sirius."

But it was no use. Sirius was already gone, his eyes fluttering closed and his head hitting the wood floor with a sickening thud. Panic flooded Remus's system once more, and it seemed this had all been a huge mistake. Sirius was sick, maybe dying, and he had just broken a man out of Azkaban. Every auror at the Ministry would soon be after him, and Sirius desperately needed a Healer. _It was the only thing you could do_, he reminded himself. _You had to save Sirius tonight or he wouldn't have lasted_.

With that thought in mind to assuage his conscience, he tossed a bit of Floo powder into the fireplace and stuck his head through as he called out his intended destination. Within a short instant, the placid face of Albus Dumbledore appeared before him. "Ah, Remus," he acknowledged pleasantly. "I rather thought I might be hearing from you tonight. I've just received a most interesting notice from the Ministry."

Remus's stomach churned with an inexplicable guilt, worsened by Dumbledore's calm acceptance. Of course the Headmaster already knew of his little transgression tonight and would not offer a single word of reproach. No, he would leave the punishment to Remus himself, as he had been wont to do during school. "Please understand, Professor," he begged. "I know it was rash and likely very stupid, but he wouldn't have lasted the night."

"You are aware the Ministry has already set their sights on an accomplice for their recent escapee?"

"Professor, I-"

"Nevertheless," Dumbledore cut him off, "I have explained our discovery, and though they will be launching an investigation promptly, they are withholding any formal charges until the situation can be fully examined."

Remus breathed a huge sigh of relief. Of course. Dumbledore had already taken care of it. "Thank you, Professor."

"I assume our mutual friend is safe with you?"

"Safe, but worse for wear, I'm afraid. You can't let them take him now," he pleaded. "It will kill him to go back."

"I have promised that I will personally account for the fugitive's whereabouts and that he will remain where he can be watched at all times until the matter can be resolved," Dumbledore explained, the tone of his voice remaining even. "I cannot promise you will not be dealt with severely, but it should at least buy some much needed time for all things to come to light."

"Thank you, Professor," he whispered again, shutting his eyes as he felt relief wash over him. Sirius was safe, for now, and no one would come after them. "There is one more thing. He's unwell. I need a Healer as soon as possible."

"How bad?"

Remus thought of the harsh, rattling breaths and his inability to wake Sirius. "Soon," was all he could manage.

"I will explain everything to Poppy Pomfrey and send her through immediately."

This time, the gratitude went unspoken. There simply weren't enough words for his relief. Dumbledore promised to send the Healer through as soon as he could explain the situation, and they bid each other a pleasant night. Remus instantly returned to his friend, still unconscious on the floor, and carefully gathered him up to lift him onto the sofa. Five years ago, it would have been a nearly impossible task. Tonight, Sirius was so slight it took barely any effort at all. "Help is coming, Padfoot," he promised as he positioned him on the beat up sofa and slipped a pillow beneath his head. His mother, God rest her soul, would have thrown a fit at the filth on her pillows. The Lupins never had much, especially after Remus was bitten, but she took great pride in keeping their shabby house as clean and decent as possible. Tonight, Remus couldn't bring himself to care that Sirius was beyond filthy. It only mattered that he was here, alive, and struggling quite valiantly to remain that way.

Remus sat beside the sofa, keeping a careful vigil over Sirius until Madam Pomfrey arrived.

"Remus?" the familiar voice called to him as she stepped out of the fire half an hour later. He didn't have to fake the smile as he rose to greet her; he knew her well from his days at Hogwarts, and she had been a godsend back then. In those days, it was even worse being a werewolf than it was now, and it was a blessed miracle that she had never, not even once, refused to treat him or shirked away from her duties in light of the monster he became once a month. Instead, she treated him as kindly as anyone he could remember in all his life, arriving promptly at moonset each month and escorting him back to the Hospital Wing, where she devotedly brought him restorative potions, mended any wounds that she could, made sure he got a solid, hot meal, and then forced him to rest most of the day. Her presence had always been a great comfort in the painful post-transformation period, and it was no less so now when Sirius was in such desperate need.

"Madam Pomfrey," he greeted. "Thank you for coming. I must apologise for the terrible situation, but-"

"Albus explained everything, my dear," she cut him off, patting him warmly on the arm. "It always was hard to believe it of Sirius. I remember the way he always turned up to see you. I kicked that boy from my ward many a time," she smiled gently.

It was meant as a kindness, but he still felt the sharp pang of his guilt. Poppy Pomfrey struggled to believe the lies about him, but Remus Lupin had found it all too easy. Forcing the thoughts from his mind, he tried to focus on the immediate problem of Sirius's health. "Azkaban has not been kind to him," he explained. "I think he's sick as well."

"Let's see him then."

Her warm smile instantly dropped as she looked over her patient. "Oh dear," she sighed, immediately pulling out her bag as she went to work running diagnostic spells, preparing potions, and writing notes on a parchment. Remus watched her work for over a half an hour, a bit disturbed that Sirius didn't even notice the Healer's work as she shifted him and examined him for injuries. "Poor boy," she muttered as she fussed over Sirius. "Been through the ringer, this one has."

"Will he be all right?" Remus asked anxiously.

"As you said, Azkaban has not been kind to him," she agreed sadly. "He's badly malnourished. Nutritional potions will work wonders, as well as plenty of food when he's well enough, but I don't like the state of these lungs," she remarked worriedly. "Or this fever. I suspect he's been too weak to fight off infections that would not normally phase a wizard."

"What does that mean?" he asked nervously.

Madam Pomfrey reached for the blanket from the back of the sofa and tenderly tucked it around Sirius's bony shoulders. "He'll need quite a few potions to help him fight this. He's very weak, so it will take some time. I would like to see him in St. Mungo's for this sort of thing, but I understand the situation is a bit complicated."

"A bit," he agreed humourlessly.

"Don't fret, dear," she tried to reassure him, even as her own worried eyes surveyed Sirius once more. "Plenty of food and rest should do the trick, along with about a dozen potions. I can come by to help you, of course, but I'm afraid I can't stay with you while school is in session. Do you think you can manage the potions?"

"Yes, of course," he nodded.

"Right then," she smiled wanly. "I can leave detailed instructions, and you'll need them. He must get the proper potions in the right amounts precisely according to my schedule. He needs strengthening draughts, nutritional potions, as well as several more specific potions to treat this infection."

"I can do it," he vowed.

"As soon as he becomes a little more aware, you can begin giving him food and drink, but make sure he receives only clear liquids for now. He's not strong enough for anything more. In a few days, you can probably begin giving him something a bit more substantial. Don't let him move about more than necessary, and for goodness sake, keep him warm."

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey," he nodded gratefully.

"No need to thank me. Just take care of this one, and make certain to Floo over if you need anything, all right?"

"I will," he promised. Madam Pomfrey carefully administered the potions as Remus helped support Sirius's head, then proceeded to write out all the instructions as promised before returning to Hogwarts through the fire. Once she was gone, Sirius seemed to be resting a bit easier. Remus would feel better moving him to the far more comfortable guest bedroom, but Madam Pomfrey had warned him against excessive movement. The sofa was a vast improvement over where he had been sleeping, but it still seemed such an injustice that he was finally free but unable to even crawl into a warm, comfortable bed.

_What have we done to you?_ Remus wondered as he watched his friend's chest rise and fall in ragged breaths. That he lived at all was testament to his strength and tenacity, but the skeletal frame on his threadbare sofa looked nothing like the friend he remembered, the strong, invincible bulwark who had always been there and always protected him. Sirius couldn't fight a light breeze as weak as he was, and Remus felt the heavy burden of responsibility, the painful knowledge that he had done nothing. If it had been the other way around, what would Sirius have done? His friend likely suspected him of being the traitor or he would have been chosen as the Secret Keeper, but there had never been questions or accusations. Sirius and James protected him, even when they feared he was betraying them. If he had been accused of selling Lily and James to Voldemort, Sirius probably would have stormed the gates of Azkaban demanding answers. Remus had not been so bold, and Sirius was the one who suffered.

Sirius would not awaken again today. Madam Pomfrey's potions had seen to that. Remus could escape to his own bedroom and sleep away this dark night, but his conscience would not allow it. Instead, he dragged a chair over next to the sofa and sank his weary bones into it. Sirius was sleeping peacefully for the first time in years, most likely, and Remus carefully reached out to lay a hand on his arm, trying not to shudder as he easily felt bone beneath the skin. "It's going to be all right now, Padfoot," he whispered. "Rest and get better."

Sirius did not move, but he was safe and he was warm and the potions would gradually restore him. _We miss you, James_, he thought as he allowed his eyes to flutter closed. _But we're finally going to make everything right again._


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Happy premiere day! This chapter is, admittedly, exceptionally long. I have contemplated over and over breaking it up, but ultimately I think this one needed to stand alone to get a few things out of the way before we can move ahead with the story. I hope you'll bear with me! Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed so far. I'd love to hear your thoughts on the story so far and any hopes for what's coming!

Chapter 4

Remus sat vigil for nearly a full day. By morning, Sirius was sweating with fever and required cool wet cloths to bring his temperature down. Every time he was able to open his eyes, Remus was forcing more potions down his throat to give him strength, to treat infection, to provide nutrition, to rehydrate. It was exhausting and more than a little worrisome when Sirius recognised neither his friend nor his surroundings, and in his delirium, Sirius fought against Remus and tried to resist the potions each time. Dumbledore called over by fire twice to assure Remus that there was no change yet (and no news was good news when Aurors won't arriving to arrest him), but Remus always had to hurry back to his friend to deal with a new crisis.

It was late evening the day after his escape before Sirius opened his eyes and displayed any real lucidity. "Moony," he moaned as he apparently recognised the worried face hovering over his.

"That's right," he nodded in encouragement.

"Where…?"

"Remember this place?" he asked gently. "Lupin Cottage. You're safe now, Sirius. You're free. Do you remember last night?"

Sirius could only manage to shake his head, but Remus forced another smile anyway.

"Madam Pomfrey has come to see you. Do you remember Madam Pomfrey?" he asked, wanting to make sure some portion of his friend was still there. Sirius nodded weakly but again said nothing. "She came to see you, and you're quite ill but you will recover," he continued. "A lot of potions, some warm food, a lot of rest, and everything will be all right."

"Harry," Sirius whispered, and Remus nearly laughed aloud. It seemed to be his old friend's favourite word, and of course he had registered nothing of his own illness and need to rest before he worried about taking care of a six-year old child.

"We will see about Harry when you're better," he promised. "Do you think you can get up? I have another bedroom upstairs, and a warm shower."

Sirius made no signs of comprehending or attempting to get up, but Remus knew he needed to clean up before he could truly begin to put Azkaban behind him. A hot shower and a soft bed would do wonders for his recovery, so Remus quickly checked his potions stores in the kitchen and found what he was looking for: an invigoration draught. He helped his friend sit up and then doled out the potion, sip by sip, until a bit of awareness returned to Sirius's eyes. It was hardly the dramatic change Remus had hoped for, but it was probably enough to get him into the spare bedroom. Slowly, they began the journey up the stairs, Remus stopping every few minutes to allow his friend to rest and regain his breath. They finally made it to the guest room, and Remus carefully explained where the bathroom was and how to use the shower. Sirius did manage to make it on his own, and a moment later, the water began. Remus waited for just a moment, making sure he didn't hear a thud, and then hurried to his own room to retrieve spare clothes. They'd be far too large on Sirius now, but anything was an improvement over the ripped and soiled Azkaban robes, which Remus fully intended to _Incendio_ later.

Half an hour later, Sirius was clean and dressed in warm clothes. Washing the dirt from his face had only served to highlight how emaciated he was, and transluscent skin seemed stretched over bones that protruded to sickening effect. Any awareness the shower and Invigoration Potion had brought about began to fade once more, the dark, haunted look returning to unseeing eyes. Without saying a word, Sirius began to lower himself to the floor, stopping only when Remus grabbed his arm. "What are you doing?" he asked in confusion.

"Sleep," he muttered wearily.

Remus swallowed hard as he realised what Sirius intended. He'd been so long in Azkaban that he assumed he would sleep on the hard ground despite the large, comfortable bed right in the middle of the room. "You'll sleep in the bed, Padfoot," he murmured, voice thick with emotion. Sirius stared for a moment, then slowly eased himself onto the bed, groaning in pain with each movement. Remus cast a Warming Charm over the blankets, then tucked them around Sirius's thin shoulders as though he was a small child. At this point, he may as well be. His friend shook beneath even the magically warmed covers, but his eyes fluttered closed and he was asleep within seconds.

For the first time, Remus dragged himself from his friend's bedside to see to his own stomach, which was growling with fierce hunger and reminding him he'd barely eaten since the whole ordeal with Sirius began. He fixed some broth for Sirius that he could warm later and a stew for himself, relishing in the feeling of a full stomach and a hot meal that stuck to his bones. His dinner eaten, he returned to the bedroom once more to watch over Sirius. Just as he started to think his friend would once more sleep peacefully tonight, he heard a slight whimpering from the bed. He sat silently, hoping Sirius would drift back into peaceful oblivion. But then the whimpers grew louder until horrified screams finally erupted as Sirius began to thrash in the bed.

"Sirius!" he called in alarm, grasping at his friend's shoulders and attempting to shake him awake. When that didn't work, he tried instead to calm him, sitting next to him on the bed and speaking in low, soothing tones. Nothing seemed to work, however, the screams continuing until Remus felt nauseated. When Sirius's eyes flashed open sometime later, his sick mind still conjured torturuous images that caused him to tremble and cry. He seemed to see and understand nothing except his own dark memories, and as he sobbed Remus recognised names of the lost. James, Lily, Regulus…even his own name. "I'm here, Sirius," he whispered in reassurance, hoping it would pierce the fear. But in the end, nothing seemed to help.

The nightmares continued for hours. Sirius would sleep for a while, then begin to scream and cry and flail again. After a while he would wake, his eyes flashing open, but even this his sick mind conjured torturuous images that caused him to tremble and cry.

Remus tried his best to calm his friend, but nothing seemed to work. Even when Sirius managed to wake, his sick mind seemed to conjure torturuous images that caused Beads of sweat appeared on pale skin, and Remus summoned a bowl of water and a cloth to wipe across his friend's forehead. He spoke quietly to Sirius, reminding him of better times at Hogwarts, reminding him of James and the times the three of them had spent together, careful to keep any mention of Peter out of it.

Dawn was breaking over the hills before Sirius slept in peace again. The dreams finally relented, and Remus felt exhausted and terrified and sick with dread. He had Sirius back, but what if his mind never recovered from this? There was only one real hope for his friend, one thing that could bring him back from the madness. Paying no mind to the time, he tossed a handful of Floo powder into the fire and stuck his head through. He was not surprised when Dumbledore appeared moments later (he would worry later about when the Headmaster slept). "How is our friend?" the old man asked kindly.

"Not well," he answered grimly. "The nightmares…"

"It must be very hard to watch," Dumbledore acknowledged. "Perhaps we should consider a dreamless sleep potion, although it can be heavily addictive."

"I'm worried he may never recover," Remus confessed. "Most men would not last five months in Azkaban. Sirius made it five years."

"I think we'll both find that young Mr. Black is stronger than we anticipated. The knowledge of one's innocence can preserve the mind, even from the Dementors."

"There is more, Professor. There was one thing that brought him back before when I believed his mind was lost. As you know, James and Lily chose him to be Harry's godfather."

"Yes, I am aware," Dumbledore answered strangely.

"Once he has been officially cleared, I'm certain that Sirius will want to retrieve his godson. It was always James and Lily's intention for Sirius to raise him if something were to happen to them."

"I understand, but I am afraid that Harry will need to remain where he is, for his own protection."

"Protection?" he asked in confusion. "But Professor, Lord-"

"Lord Voldeomort has disappeared," Dumbledore agreed. "But it does not mean that he is dead, or that he will not return."

"You…you don't mean…"

"The body of Voldemort was not recovered the night Harry defeated him in Godric's Hollow. He has not died, Remus. I am afraid we cannot know what became of him, but as long as Voldemort exists, Harry will always be in danger."

Remus felt sick at the thought. "Sirius survived because of Harry, because he promised James and Lily he would take care of him."

"I have no intention of depriving Sirius of a relationship with his godson. I do believe they will be good for each other. But Harry must remain where he is. Now I must go. We can discuss this matter when Sirius is in better spirits."

Before Remus could protest, Dumbledore disappeared. Sighing at the old man's mysterious vagueness, he glanced up the stairs towards his guest room. His stomach flipped over again as he imagined sharing the news with Sirius. Harry had been the only thing that brought Sirius from the hell inside his mind. Harry was the one thought that could pry him from the darkness and save his soul from a terrible fate. Sirius lived for Harry, for the chance that he could have the boy and raise him as he promised to do; what would it do to him to once more be disappointed? And could anyone even stop him once he was well? The boy's name was practically all Sirius would say, and he would need that hope and light to fight against the darkness of his memories. Thoughts of Harry brought him back from the brink of madness, but the war for his mind and soul was not over yet. He could still be lost to his own nightmares, and Harry represented peace and light and freedom to Sirius. Without the boy he had vowed to protect, Remus wasn't certain Sirius would be able to carry on.

Exhausted and worried, Remus returned upstairs to the guest bedroom to look over his friend once more. Sirius was lost again to his nightmares, but at least he wasn't thrashing about and putting himself in more pain for now. Remus was exhausted himself, but he owed it to Sirius to watch over him and make sure no more harm befell him.

Remus dozed fitfully in the chair beside the bed, waking every now and then to check on his friend, eat a bit, and puzzle over Dumbledore's reluctance to allow Sirius guardianship of Harry. It was early evening of Sirius's second day out of Azkaban when he finally opened his eyes and looked straight at Remus without the cloud of confusion previously lurking in his pale eyess. "Moony," he rasped weakly.

All previous thoughts vanished as he smiled warmly at his friend who finally seemed to know him and to understand. He picked up the glass of water he'd kept next to the bed and helped Sirius to drink. "You're safe now, Sirius," he explained. "You're going to be all right now, once we fatten you up again. Do you remember how you got here?"

"You came," he breathed.

There was no reproach or recrimination, but Remus still felt a horrible stab of guilt. He may have rescued Sirius from Azkaban, but he had done nothing heroic. If he was heroic, he would have broken him out years ago, long before his body had time to waste away and his mind became tormented by memories and madness. "I did come," he confirmed quietly. "I'm only sorry it took me so long."

"Moony…"

"I don't know if you can ever forgive me for doubting you, Sirius. I don't know how I ever could have thought it was you…that you would do that to James and Lily. "I should have been there five years ago, Padfoot. I let this happen to you. Everything you do for me in school, and I let this happen to you. I….there's nothing I can say to make it right. But I promise I'll do all I can to get you well and give you back your life."

Sirius said nothing for a moment, but he reached out his hand and clasped Sirius's, his sunken eyes conveying everything he was too weak to say. "You came," he repeated meaningfully, and just like that, Remus knew he was forgiven. He was quite certain he didn't _deserve_ forgiveness, especially not this easily, but it meant everything in the world to have it. Sirius was his friend, his brother, and he felt himself finally beginning to mend after five long years marked with grief and suffering and loneliness. It would be a while before Sirius could run with him at the full moon, but for now, his friend's life was more than enough. It felt nice to know it hadn't all been an illusion, that the love and loyalty Sirius demonstrated for his friends was real and lasting, not easily bought by their enemies, not easily sacrificed to the ones who wished them dead.

"You should eat," he said, voice thick with emotion. But Sirius shook his head, his eyes fluttering closed as he drifted back into restless sleep.

Hours later, Remus knew his friend had to eat something, even if it meant waking him to do so. He warmed the broth, wishing Sirius could handle something more, something that might actually give him some energy and start the long, slow process of adding weight to his skeletal frame. It was something, though, and probably more than he'd managed to eat in quite some time, with the exception of the chocolate that helped him fight off the effects of the Dementors.

He hated to wake his sleeping friend, but he set the soup on the bedside table and gently shook Sirius awake. He had to dodge a hand that shot out defensively, but Sirius calmed when he recognised his face. "Moony," he whispered in the same tone of surprise as each time had woken, undoubtedly struggling to remember how he had gotten here, somewhere warm and safe and free.

"It's me, Padfoot," he reminded him gently. "You're safe. Sorry to wake you, but you need to eat." He gently lifted him by the shoulders, trying not to wince at the feeling of bone beneath his hands, and propped him against the pillows. He saw the way Sirius shook, so he knew he would be unable to feed himself. In another life this may have embarrassed them both, but Remus didn't give a second thought to feeding his friend a spoonful at a time. When he was well enough, Sirius would be horrified by his weakness and inability to care for himself. For now, he was starving and desperate enough to do whatever it took to eat, even if it meant being fed like a small child. "Can you eat more?" Remus asked when Sirius had finished all of the broth.

"Yes," Sirius rasped weakly.

Encouraged, Remus returned downstairs and filled the bowl again. Once more, he held the spoon to his friend's mouth until Sirius grew too tired to eat. "Sleep, Padfoot. Everything will be all right."

"Thank you, Moony," Sirius whispered as he drifted off to sleep.

It took the better part of a week before Sirius's condition changed even a little. For most of the week, he slept the majority of the day, waking only long enough to eat a little broth, drink some water, and manage a few words to Remus. He was mostly incoherent, speaking in feverish rants about James and Lily and Harry. In his rare moments of lucidity, he spoke about Peter and how they must kill him. Remus could only agree in those moments, knowing that Sirius would never rest until the real traitor was revealed but also knowing how difficult that would be. While Sirius slept, Remus spoke at length to Dumbledore about the situation. Peter Pettigrew vanished five years ago as a rat; tracking down a single rodent in all of Britain would certainly be a challenge, and the bloody traitor may very well have escaped Britain altogether. They couldn't very well advertise to the world, as everyone who spotted a rat would be certain it was Peter, even though Peter had the distinction of missing a finger. Even a rat missing a toe would be nearly impossible to find.

Talks about Harry had not gone any better. Remus tried to insist that Sirius had earned the right to care for his godson according to the wishes left by James and Lily, but Dumbledore was still frustratingly vague and remarkably stubborn about Harry being left with his muggle relatives. He explained to Remus that Lily Potter had done ancient magic when she died for her son, casting a protection over him that could not be matched by any protective wards currently in existence. By placing Harry with his Aunt Petunia, Harry remained under the blood protection of his mother. Remus wasn't sure what he believed was best for Harry, but he did know that they would have to see him and at least see how he was faring before they could make that decision. Sirius was probably not the most ideal choice of a guardian, but James and Lily had chosen him. A part of Remus wanted to honour their dying wishes and see the boy raised by his own kind. On the other hand, perhaps it was best for Harry to grow up anonymous, and Sirius Black, recent escapee from Azkaban prison, could probably offer little in the way of stability, comfort, education…all the things a young boy needed. Beyond all that, Harry had lived for five years with his muggle relations, and he undoubtedly loved the family he had now. Would it really be fair to take him away from all of that just because years ago, James and Lily chose another?

There was more, Remus sensed, that Dumbledore needed to tell him about Harry and why it was imperative that he remain with his relatives. He was just one boy, after all, and though he had done a miraculous thing in destroying Lord Voldemort, it was not through his own power, but through the love of his mother. Of course Remus would die to protect the boy, but why was Dumbledore so intent on shielding him from the world? What harm could possibly befall him with Voldemort silent for over five years? Remus tried to ask the headmaster these questions, desperate to understand, but the old man stubbornly refused to speak until Sirius had improved.

* * *

><p>A full week passed while Remus watched over his sleeping friend, begging fate not to take him now when they had finally found each other again. Sirius remained weak and mostly unaware, giving only a vacant smile even at the news that Dumbledore had finally cleared him of all charges. He was free, and he didn't seem to care.<p>

The full moon would be upon him soon, so Remus was preparing his next dose of Wolfsbane when he heard a noise coming from the living room. He quickly drew his wand, fearing the worst. The curse was on the tip of his tongue as he emerged from the kitchen and came nearly face-to-face with Sirius. "Padfoot!" he reprimanded sharply. "What are you doing out of bed?" He grabbed his friend by the shoulders and guided him over to the sofa. "You shouldn't be up yet. Not on your own."

"I want to go get Harry," he said plainly.

Remus sighed; he knew this was coming sooner or later, but he certainly hoped it would be later.

"You promised me Harry," Sirius reminded him with a tone of steely resolve. Of course, every day for a week Remus had to remind his friend where he was and how he got here, but he could remember that one little thing from the night of their escape.

"I did, and you will see him," Remus nodded carefully. "But look at you, Sirius. You aren't strong enough yet. You'd only frighten him right now. You'll just have to wait a bit longer."

"I've done my waiting!" Sirius cried. "Five years of it! In Azkaban!"

"Sirius," he tried to calm him, holding out his hands in surrender. "You need to relax. You aren't well," he reminded him. "I know you want to see Harry. I do, too. But you aren't ready yet."

"They took him from me," Sirius breathed weakly, his hands beginning to tremble as he was assaulted by memories once more. "I had Harry in my arms. I let Hagrid take him away from me. I let him…"

"Sirius, stop," he pleaded, unable to bear his friend going through this. He knew now from the scenes in the pensieve exactly what had happened the night James and Lily died. Sirius had gone straight away to their home in Godric's Hollow when he first became aware something was wrong. He had to step over their dead bodies to reach his sobbing godson, and then he had held the boy close, calmed him, soothed him, until Hagrid arrived under orders from Dumbledore. Remus wondered now how things would be different if Sirius had just kept his arms around Harry, and he couldn't help hating Dumbledore, just a little, for starting this all. Without Harry, Sirius had only his thirst for revenge. Harry was the one thing that mattered more than that, and with him gone, he had been rash, impulsive, and gotten himself thrown into Azkaban.

"I was meant to be their Secret Keeper," Sirius whispered harshly. "I broke one promise to James and Lily, and it got them killed. I won't break another."

"Neither was your fault, Sirius."

"I should have known he was the traitor!" he snapped harshly. "It's my fault! I insisted on Peter…I thought I was helping them. Instead I was killing them!"

"I know why you did it, Sirius," he responded, trying to keep his voice even and calm to temper the hysteria quickly building in his friend. "You knew they would still come after you. You didn't switch for your own sake."

"You don't think I can do it," he accused, paying no attention to Remus's words. "You'll keep Harry from me because…because of the dementors."

"No, Padfoot," he shook his head. "I know how much you adored Harry. I would never ask you not to see him. You simply need more time. Once you're better-"

"I promised to die for them!"

"Sirius," he tried once more, not sure what more he could do.

"I promised to die for them," he whispered again and sank further into the sofa.

A haunted look overcame his features, an expression Remus was all too accustomed to after a week with his frail friend. "I wish I had," Sirius added quietly.

"Don't say things like that," Remus warned him sternly. "If you want to see Harry, you-"

"Are you going to stop me, Remus?" he asked, a cold, hard edge to his tone. "James and Lily chose me."

Remus sensed that the words were perfectly planned to remind Remus who had _not_ been chosen at Harry's godfather, but he would not be baited. "You're in no state to raise a child, Sirius," he said plainly.

"Do you know who he's with, Remus?" he demanded. "Petunia! Petunia, who abandoned her sister. Petunia, who hated Lily because of her magic!"

"Dumbledore wouldn't have left him there if it wasn't safe, Sirius. Harry's protected there. He has a normal life. He has a normal family. Now, I promise that we'll go to see him, but you at least have to consider what's best for Harry. You've been in Azkaban for five years. Do you really think you're ready to take in a child? You know you're welcome to stay here as long as you'd like, but there's no place here for a six-year old boy."

"He's all I have, Remus."

"Padfoot," he sighed wearily, amazed that Sirius could put up this much of a fight after a week at death's door.

"I've thought about him for five years, Moony. Thinking of him growing up…without me…it wasn't a happy thought, so the Dementors couldn't take it. I stayed sane for him. So I could escape and raise him like I promised."

"You'll be with him," Remus promised. "No one will try to take that from you. But Harry has lived with his aunt and uncle for five years now. They're the only family he knows. It's the only home he'll ever remember. You can't rush in and take him away from that. He probably doesn't know we exist, Padfoot. You have to give him time, and right now you're in no condition to travel to Surrey."

Remus somehow managed to win that round, eventually getting his friend to calm and fall asleep again on the sofa. Now that he was awake and lucid, Sirius was able to start eating more and spent more time awake each day. Each day, he returned to Remus with the request to see Harry, and each day, Remus had to deny him. By full moon, Sirius was still not well enough to do much more than make it up and down the stairs. Thankfully, the Wolfsbane was enough to keep Remus from being any kind of danger to him, so although Sirius could not transform and run about with him, Remus was able to transform in his own home and sleep in front of the fire while Sirius sat nearby on the sofa, half-reading a book he found among Remus's things.

Another week passed, and finally Sirius was strong enough to move around on his own. The nightmares were still a nightly occurrence, but he no longer slept the day away, and in his waking hours, he was always lucid and coherent. He was still dreadfully thin and pale, unable to stomach much of the food Remus prepared, but he was working on it, gradually regaining his appetite and slowly adding pounds to his emaciated frame. They had made a sort of silent agreement not to speak about James and Lily and Azkaban, neither ready to face those demons. The guilt was beginning to weigh on Remus again, however, and the forgiveness Sirius extended seemed to be withdrawn a bit now that Sirius was more himself. Remus knew they had to talk about it if they were going to continue to live under the same roof, and though it was no longer strictly necessary for Sirius to have constant supervision, Remus suspected he didn't want to be left alone anymore than Remus himself did. After so many years alone, they both craved human interaction. Sirius still slept better if Remus was in the room, and Remus had awakened several times to find Padfoot asleep on the floor at the end of his bed. As much as he hated to see Sirius, even in dog form, sleeping on the floor, there was a reason his friend felt more comfortable that way, and so he said nothing.

The first venture out of Lupin Cottage was to Gringotts for Sirius to sign the papers reinstating his accounts. As the sole survivor of his family, he'd inherited the Black fortune and Grimmauld Place, but they had made an unspoken agreement not to talk about the house. Remus knew his old friend had no intentions of touching the place again, and they would return today to the cottage even though Grimmauld Place would be in Sirius's name.

Remus should have seen it coming, really. For weeks he wearily reminded Sirius that he wasn't prepared to take on a child, that he was basically returning from the dead and in no condition to raise a six-year old. Sirius had been surprisingly placid about the whole affair lately, but now he had his fortune restored, he could buy a new home, he could feed and clothe a child. They received plenty of stares during their outing in Diagon Alley, but Harry was famous as well, and the word had at least spread that Sirius was innocent, and though the looks were guarded, but not fearful. He was still far too thin and a bit more ragged than he had been five years ago, but there was no denying his improvement, and he looked more like a man who'd recently been ill than a man who'd been near death.

"Tomorrow," Sirius announced as they sat down for dinner that evening. "Tomorrow, we're going to see Harry."

"Sirius," he sighed, not sure he was ready for this. He basically lied to his friend all these weeks, promising they would see Harry soon, putting him off, never quite explaining the real reason Dumbledore would not allow Sirius Black to get custody of his godson. But Sirius was not going to accept it any longer.

"I'm going to look for us a place to live soon," Sirius proceeded. "I can buy a home now. I can take care of him, just like I promised James I would."

"It's more complicated than that."

"With all due respect, Remus, you didn't know Lily as well as I did in the last years of her life. She and Petunia didn't speak to each other. Petunia tried to stop her from coming to her own mother's funeral!"

"I won't argue with you about the type of person Lily's sister is or was," Remus said firmly. "The fact is, it's Harry's home. You can't storm in and take him away."

"Have you forgotten that _I'm_ his godfather?" Sirius demanded.

"I'm not denying-"

"Then don't presume to tell me what's best for him!" his friend shouted. "Do you think I have anything but Harry's best interests at heart? James, Lily, and Harry are all I have thought about for five years. Five years, Remus!"

"I'm afraid you don't understand, Sirius," he said calmly. "I do not doubt your devotion to Harry, nor would I call into question how much you care for him. But Dumbledore has his reasons for wanting Harry to stay with his aunt and uncle."

"Dumbledore," Sirius laughed darkly. "Of course he does."

"What does that mean?" Remus bristled.

"Don't speak to me about Dumbledore's reasons," Sirius warned lowly. "Dumbledore was a member of the Wizengamot. He could have granted me a trial. He knew me, Remus, and he allowed me to be sent to Azkaban without ever asking me how or why. I may forgive you both for never questioning my guilt, but don't expect me to play nicely with his rules when he threw me in there to rot," he spat. "Dumbledore had James's cloak the night he died. Did you know that?"

Remus was momentarily stunned. "No," he admitted. "No, I…what was he doing with the cloak?"

"Dumbledore's concern is for the greater good. It's always been for the greater good. Not for James, not for Lily…not for any of us. My concern is for Harry. I won't allow _my_ godson to be sacrificed for Dumbledore's cause."

"Be that as it may, you can't deny that it may be best for Harry to stay right where he is," Remus argued. "And whatever Dumbledore may have done wrong, I never could have broken you out of Azkaban without him. You at least owe him a chance to explain."

"I owe him nothing," he answered coldly.

"Then you owe it to Harry," he countered. "You owe it to James and Lily to be the best godfather you can be. Don't be rash, Sirius," he advised. "I know you belong in Harry's life. You've both been robbed of that, and no one is more sorry than me, but Harry comes first. Harry _must _come first. Whether you want to speak to Dumbledore or not, if Harry's safety could be in jeopardy, you can't ignore him."

Sirius did not respond, but they ate the rest of their meal in stony silence. When their plates were cleaned, Sirius disappeared to his room, and Remus called Professor Dumbledore and explained the situation.

An hour later, Dumbledore arrived in the fireplace. Remus didn't even have to call Sirius; he seemed to be waiting for their headmaster to arrive and silently took his place in the small living area of the cottage. "You listen to me, Albus Dumbledore," Sirius began stonily. "I made a mistake handing Harry over to Hagrid the night James and Lily died. I intend to rectify the situation immediately, with or without your consent."

"I admire your tenacity, Mr. Black," Dumbledore answered amiably, not bothered in the least by the hostility in Sirius's voice. "And, of course, your devotion to your godson is not to be taken lightly."

"Don't patronize me, Dumbledore."

"Very well then," the old man nodded. "There are circumstances I must explain. The night James and Lily died, Lily willingly sacrificed herself for Harry. Her sacrifice created a blood protection over Harry, a blood protection that extends to her blood relations, including her sister, Petunia. As long as Harry calls his aunt's house his home, he will be protected."

Sirius nodded slowly, allowing the information to sink in. Still, Remus could tell his opinion was not changed. "I can still protect him," he said calmly. "James and Lily asked me to be his guardian if something happened to them!"

"That was before Lily sacrificed her life for him, Sirius," Dumbledore explained patiently. "The situation has changed. While I am certain the Potters would very much want you involved in Harry's life, he is safer with his aunt and uncle."

"Because of blood protection?" Sirius asked incredulously. "What could they do if someone were to get around that? They can't defend him like I can! There are wards, there are measures I could take! Voldemort hasn't been seen or heard from in over five years. Harry will be safe with me."

"Voldemort disappeared," Dumbledore acknowledged. "But there are ways he could return. No body was ever recovered, Mr. Black. The Dark Lord, I'm afraid, is still out there. And Harry will remain his target."

"Then he should be with his own kind! Someone who could use magic to protect him! I was a member of the Order, I was sworn to protect him!"

"You have been through a terrible ordeal. I understand very well how much Harry Potter means to you, and I would never ask you not to see him or be a part of his life. I only ask you to do what is best for _Harry_."

"Who are you to tell me what that is?" Sirius demanded. "I'm his rightful guardian! It's my decision to make!"

"Think about your friends, Sirius," Dumbledore implored. "Think about James and Lily and what they sacrificed to keep their son safe. Can you so easily gamble that away?"

"Professor," Remus interjected before Sirius exploded with anger. "I-"

"_Never _accuse me of taking for granted what James and Lily gave. They were my best friends. I lost everything the night they died. I spent five years of my life in Azkaban. I _know_ the price that has been paid!" Sirius raged.

"Then do as you promised and protect the boy no matter the cost to yourself," Dumbledore answered evenly. This finally seemed to reach Sirius, and the anger evaporated, leaving only defeat and misery. Remus's heart went out to his old friend who wanted nothing more than to love and protect Harry as he promised James. Remus too had loved the Potters, but there was a special kinship between James and Sirius, a bond stronger than that shared between any of the other Marauders, a bond strong enough to hold all four of them together. Any promise made between James and Sirius was a matter of honour to them both, and Remus felt quite certain Sirius would gladly die before he willingly broke any vow made to James, especially now that James was gone. To leave Harry in the hands of his relatives would take enormous restraint from Sirius, and it meant never having the one thing that kept Sirius alive for five agonising years in Azkaban.

"All right," Sirius finally conceded. "I'll do this, for Harry. But mark my words, Albus. I abide by this only as long as Harry is safe and cared for and I have full access to see him. If those muggles try and stop me-"

"That won't be a problem, Sirius. Petunia and I have made an arrangement."

"I'll be seeing him first thing tomorrow, then," he said firmly, then got up and walked away.

Once he was beyond earshot, Remus turned once more to his former headmaster. "There's more you aren't telling him," he deduced easily.

"Your friend is still recovering, Mr. Lupin. I have no doubts about allowing him to interact with Harry, but there are certain truths that are better exposed at a later date. Mr. Black is not known for his ability to restrain himself in difficult situations."

Remus could only laugh shortly at this, but he felt the beginnings of fear creeping over his heart. Dumbledore was playing his cards close to his chest, and there was obviously something else about Harry, something dark, something sinister the professor refused to reveal. Like Sirius, Remus himself had mostly thought it safe in the world now that Voldemort had disappeared, but if Dumbledore was still afraid for Harry's safety, perhaps there was cause for alarm after all, perhaps the war wasn't as over as he hoped it to be. And Remus wasn't sure how much more he – or Sirius – could endure.

As he quietly made his way to his bedroom that night, Remus noticed that the light was still on in Sirius's room. Knowing he would be turned away if he knocked, he opened the door and walked in, not at all surprised to find Sirius wide awake and reading another book he'd found in Remus's collection. Now that he was mostly recovered, it seemed Sirius had trouble sleeping, either because he was afraid of the dreams or because he was simply bored after so much time spent unconscious. "Go away, Moony," Sirius growled. "You and Dumbledore both made your points."

"I took no pleasure in this, Padfoot," he answered earnestly as he ignored Sirius and took a seat by the bed. "Harry was always meant to live with you after James and Lily passed, but all we can do now is do our best to make him happy."

"I never should have left him with Hagrid," he shook his head.

"What happened that night is Voldemort's fault. And Pettigrew's," he added. "But not yours, Padfoot. Never yours."

"If I hadn't gone after him, I would still have Harry."

"You don't know that," he countered gently. "With Pettigrew out there, who knows what may have happened? You at least forced him into hiding, Sirius, and someday, he will pay for what he did to us. To all of us."

"I'll be the one to kill him," Sirius answered with steely determination.

Remus had plenty of arguments for that, beginning and ending with Harry's need for a godfather who was not in prison for murder, but now was not the time to discuss it. He could only imagine how raw the pain must still be, the betrayal that cost Sirius everything he held dear. It also reminded him of his own betrayal, his own failure to look beyond Pettigrew's ruse and see the man – the good, decent man – who suffered because of it. Sirius hurled words at him in anger and likely regretted them now, but it didn't make them any less true. Somewhere along the way, Remus failed him. He began to doubt him, and instead of following through on friendship, he just gave up, accepted that years of friendship and loyalty were all a sham. He so easily forgot the earnest, pleading faces the night Sirius and James confronted him and told him they knew his secret. He so easily forgot how they studied, every waking moment, and assisted Peter all the while so the four of them could enjoy the full moons together, so that Remus would not be alone.

"You don't have to forgive me for what I did," he announced plainly, deciding that now was not the time to mince words. "You're right to be angry with Dumbledore and with me. I never questioned your guilt, Sirius. I may never forgive myself, so I don't expect your forgiveness."

"Which is precisely why you have it," Sirius answered meaningfully.

"Sirius…"

"We thought we were invincible, Moony. We never believed the war would tear us apart, but it did. We thought our friendship couldn't be broken. We were foolish. Do you really think I didn't suspect you? Voldemort was recruiting werewolves. You were distant, always off on missions for Dumbledore the rest of us knew nothing about."

Something about the resignation in his tone made Remus profoundly sad. He hadn't felt this sad since he rescued Sirius, and now he understood the full ramifications of what he had done. His friend was still here, his friend was alive, but nothing could ever be the same. Not just because James was dead, but because all four of them allowed their friendship to falter and fail. They allowed fear and paranoia to grow stronger than brotherhood. The four boys who vowed loyalty to each other forever were dead and gone, never to return again. Remus wasn't just guilty of accepting the lies about Sirius; he was guilty of allowing something pure and wonderful to be destroyed. He abandoned faith, and in doing so, he killed each and every one of them. Sirius may forgive him, but something inside of each of them was broken forever.

Clearly sensing the dangerous reflection, Sirius sat up a bit and gazed hard at Remus. "I proved myself unworthy of your trust once before, Remus. You never did punish me enough for what I almost did."

"Because you didn't mean it," he whispered. "I knew, Sirius. We all knew what you were going through that year. I was angry with you for a long time, but even then, I knew you would have died before you would have intentionally harmed me. It wasn't hard to forgive you when I knew how much you hated yourself."

Sirius stared at him for a long moment, probably struggling with his churning thoughts and emotions as much as Remus was. "You probably knew I punished myself far more than you ever could," he added sagely, and Remus nodded. He understood what Sirius was saying, and it was true, on both counts. He knew Sirius tortured himself endlessly for what he did to one of his best friends, and in turn, Sirius knew that Remus would never truly forgive himself for allowing him to rot in Azkaban. "I need a friend, Remus. I've been on my own…so long."

"You'll never be alone again, Padfoot," Remus vowed. "Never again."


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Happy Harry Potter Week! I hope you've gotten to see the new movie and loved it as much as I did! I can't believe it's over, but I look forward to carrying on the story in our hearts and on this site! Thank you all for reading and reviewing. This is a truly special fandom that I am honoured to be a part of! I hope you enjoy the story!

Chapter 5

Sirius could hardly contain his excitement the next day, waking far too early, before dawn, even, planning his day with his godson. When Remus awoke, they would go to Diagon Alley for sweets and toys to spoil the boy with, and perhaps to convince him to like them after all these years apart. Harry wouldn't remember him, after all, and may not be thrilled to discover he had a godfather he'd never met. Sirius spent a full hour in the bathroom that morning, trying to tame his wild black hair and look slightly less intimidating (and less like an ex-convict) for his first meeting with Harry in five long years.

He wondered now what the boy would look like. At only a year old, he looked like James. He had the same shock of black hair, but some of his facial features were decidedly Lily. Would he have grown even more like his father, or might he have started to look a bit more like Lily? It pained him more than he could express that he did not know these things now, had not seen his precious godson through each year of his life.

At 22, Sirius had not envisioned himself the type to settle down with a wife and children. Lily always teased him, insisting no self-respecting witch would ever have him, but he saw the glow in her green eyes and knew she never meant it. Still, he never knew if it was in the stars for him, and he liked it that way. He was content with his godson, and even at 22, he knew Harry was all he really needed. He loved the boy, adored him, even. James was his brother and Lily his dear, dear friend. Their child was the most precious thing he could imagine, so sweet and so innocent and so full of promise. He remembered holding the little baby in his arms, wondering who he would be, wondering what he would become, anticipating the day when James would pass on his Invisibility Cloak, the day they would take him aside and explain the Marauders Map. Lily always forbade them to corrupt her sweet little Harry, but Sirius knew that she would delight in him taking after James, as long as he didn't cause quite as much trouble. And Sirius knew he never would. Lily's sweetness would temper the boy's natural penchant for trouble, but it wouldn't keep Sirius from teaching him a few of the Marauder ways.

Despite all the fear and heartache of Harry's first year of life, it had been one of the happiest times in Sirius's life. James and Lily were exceedingly kind and patient with him, always inviting him over when he suspected they would rather be alone with their little family. They knew Sirius had no one, and so they welcomed him with open arms into their family. He never felt out of place with them or with Harry, and when James went away with the Order, it was he who watched over Lily and Harry. Little Harry was once the light of Sirius's life, but now, at six years old, Harry didn't even know Sirius existed. He would fix that today, and though he desperately wanted to bring the boy home with him, he would abide, by now, with Dumbledore's wishes. If Harry was happy and thriving in his home with the Dursleys, Sirius would do everything he could to maintain a place in Harry's life without ever disrupting his bit of peace and comfort. He would teach his dear godson all about James and Lily, pass on their legacy to the only part of them left, and allow him to grow up sheltered from his fame and its dark origins. Later, when he went to Hogwarts, he would need someone like Sirius who could teach him about magic, who could understand his world. Maybe then he could be a bigger part of Harry's life, and maybe then he would have found a nice home for himself, somewhere out in the country, somewhere with plenty of room for them to run and fly.

He had to force himself to swallow down breakfast this morning, having no real appetite for food but knowing that Remus would be hesitant to leave if he hadn't eaten properly. He was still too thin, after all, and he didn't want to frighten poor Harry with his sickly appearance. As soon as they had eaten, however, he insisted on leaving. He spent more galleons than reasonable buying chocolates and other sweets, and then he filled a bag with toys as well. Remus reminded him that Harry lived in the muggle world, so he even bought a few non-magical toys to make sure that Harry could always have reminders of his godfather with him. When all the purchases were stowed safely inside an expandable bag, they Apprated to the address left to them by Dumbledore.

Number 4 Privet Drive in Surrey was remarkably ordinary, a tidy little house with a tidy little garden. Something about it almost disturbed Sirius, though he could not tell if it was the other houses that looked exactly the same or the way not a single leaf or flower seemed out of place. Lily didn't often speak about her sister, but the few times she did were not exceedingly pleasant. Petunia practically disowned Lily the way his own family disowned him, so he did not expect a warm reception from the Dursleys. Still, these muggles would not stop him from seeing his godson, even if he had to hex them into next week.

Remus rang the doorbell, as he knew these sorts of muggle customs, and gave a look to Sirius that said to let him do all the talking. Almost instantly, a very large man who reminded Sirius of a walrus opened the door, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. "Who are you?" he asked.

"Good afternoon, Sir," Remus announced politely, forcing an overly cheerful smile. "My name is Remus Lupin, and this is my friend, Sirius Black. We're-"

"You're – you're – you're one of _those_!" he spat distastefully.

"I beg your pardon?" Remus asked in confusion.

"Now listen here," the foul man began. "We have no tolerance for your type in our house. It's bad enough that we have one of your kind eating our food and sharing our home. We will not accept you barging in here!"

"Sir, if you would," Remus tried again, somehow keeping his calm, pleasant demeanor when Sirius was ready to blast open the door and demand to see his godson. "We were very dear friends of the Potters."

"Of course you were," he sneered. "No good, the lot of you!"

Even Remus seemed upset by the insult and the slight against James and Lily. "You'll excuse me, Mr. Dursley," he said a bit more forcefully, "but Sirius is Harry's godfather. We greatly appreciate all you have done for Harry, but Sirius has the right to see him."

"Where's he been the last five years, then? While we raised the ungrateful little creature?"

"I was unfortunately detained," Sirius answered wryly. "And you would be wise never to speak that way of my godson."

"Sirius," Remus warned him lowly as Sirius felt for his wand hidden safely in his pocket.

"Who's there, Vernon?" a woman asked from behind Mr. Dursley's large frame.

"Some of _his_ kind."

"What?" she shrieked. "That terrible Dumbledore promised us!"

Remus looked even more angry as Petunia spoke ill of Dumbledore. "Mr. and Mrs. Dursley," he began once more. "I do not want to get Dumbledore involved, but as Harry's godfather, appointed by James and Lily, you cannot deny Sirius the right to see Harry. If we must, we'll bring Dumbledore-"

"No!" Petunia cried. "Vernon, what would the neighbours think if they saw that – that – man wandering into our home? Just let them in!"

Vernon reluctantly stepped aside to allow them into the house. "You'll take him outside. To the back of the house. We don't want your kind inside of our home. And if there is any type of funny business-"

"We just want to see Harry," Remus placated. "Visit with him a bit. You won't even know we're here."

Vernon narrowed his eyes again, his face an odd shade of purple, but he finally nodded. "Potter?" he shouted. "Potter, come here this instant!"

Sirius instantly heard the patter of tiny feet, and a small boy suddenly appeared in the hall. Despite the foul Dursleys, his heart instantly lightened and joy filled his face as he looked on his beloved godson for the first time in five miserable years. He was a small boy and seemed slight even for a six-year old, his clothes far too baggy on his little frame. He wore oversized wire glasses that sat crooked across his nose, and his black hair was a mess. He was, quite possibly, the most wonderful sight Sirius could ever recall. He looked just like James in miniature, but the eyes that looked up at him curiously were a vivid green. For a moment, it was like staring into Lily's eyes. "Harry," he whispered, his voice nearly breaking with joy and pain and relief and wonder.

"Who are you?" the little boy asked uncertainly.

"Outside! Now!" Vernon demanded.

"I'll explain everything, Harry," Sirius promised, offering his hand to the boy. "Let's go outside, shall we?"

Harry looked a bit uncomfortable with two strangers, but after a moment, he took the outstretched hand and followed them out the back door into a small fenced garden. Sirius found a place for them all to sit, and the three of them made themselves as comfortable as possible in the dead grass. Sirius could feel Vernon's gaze on them, and Harry stiffened as he saw his uncle watching them from the kitchen. Sirius scowled at the man, and he couldn't help noticing that Harry seemed to relax a bit as soon as Vernon disappeared from the glass.

"Harry, I know you don't remember me," Sirius began softly, "but I was a good friend of your mum and dad. And this is my friend, Remus."

"You knew my parents?" Harry asked, his eyes lighting up.

"I did," he nodded. "I knew them very well. Your dad was my best friend. Remus, too," he added. "The three of us went to school together. We knew your mum as well. You look very much like them, you know."

"I do?"

"You've no idea," Sirius smiled gently. "Your dad had the same hair as you. Bit messy, just like yours."

"Aunt Petunia hates it."

Remus barked out a little laugh at that. "Your grandmum did, too. Never could control his hair."

"Your eyes are just like your mum's," Sirius continued. "Last time I saw you, your eyes were still blue, like most babies. I always hoped they would be green, just like hers. Your mum had very lovely eyes."

"I've never even seen a picture of them," Harry said glumly.

"Never seen a picture?" Sirius asked in surprise. "Hasn't your aunt ever shown you pictures of your mum?"

Harry just shook his head at this, and Sirius shared a troubled look with Remus. No matter the strained relationship between Lily and Petunia, Harry was the only living remnant of Lily, the only reminder of a sister now gone. It seemed unnatural that Petnia wouldn't have at least shared some muggle photographs with Harry, told him stories about his mum's childhood. Even a muggle like Petunia had to understand what it was like for Harry to grow up without his mum and dad, how much a boy needed to hear about the parents he had lost at such a cruel age. "We'll bring some, next time," Remus offered. "I have many pictures of your parents, Harry."

"And I can have them?" Harry asked in disbelief.

"Of course you can," Remus smiled. "You ought to know all about them. They were wonderful people, your parents."

Harry only frowned at this. "Uncle Vernon said my dad was a drunk."

Sirius instantly felt himself go rigid with anger. This was precisely why he protested this living arrangement, and Dumbledore was just too daft to see it. James Potter had been the very best sort of man and as far from a drunk as anyone could be. He was a hero to most of the wizarding world, a symbol of goodness. He was a pureblood, wizarding nobility, but he had never been prejudiced and never swayed in his beliefs. He was brave and strong until the very end, and for someone to slander his name, particularly to his orphaned son, was simply unthinkable. Besides all that, why should any six-year old even know what a drunk was? What other sorts of things were they telling the poor kid?

"Harry," he addressed the boy, trying to keep his anger out of his voice so as not to frighten him. "Your dad was my very best friend. He was a remarkable man. Brave, loyal, and good. He loved you very, very much," he said solemnly.

"What about my mum?" he asked curiously. "Aunt Petunia won't talk about her."

"Oh, she was beautiful," he answered fondly, smiling gently down at the boy. "Truly one of a kind, Harry."

"She was wonderful," Remus added. "The most loving person I've ever known. You meant the whole world to her, Harry."

"Really?" he asked hopefully.

That he seemed to doubt threatened to undo Sirius. "Really," he forced himself to nod. "I spent a great deal of time with your parents, and with you when you were just a baby. In fact, your parents made me your godfather. Do you know what that means?"

Harry just shook his head shyly.

"It means your mum and dad asked me to look after you if anything should happen to them. They wanted me to take care of you and make sure you were always safe and happy."

"But I don't even remember my parents," Harry shook his head. "How come I don't know you?"

Sirius frowned at this and desperately wished he could reach out and hug the little boy. He didn't want to startle him, however, and he had to remember that though he had loved this boy for six years, Harry knew nothing about him and had no reason at all to trust him. "I've…been away," he answered as vaguely as possible. "I wanted to be here, Harry. Truly. Nothing would have made me happier. It was never my choice to be away from you, but I'm here now and I won't be leaving again."

"And neither will I, Harry," Remus added. "Sirius is your godfather, but your parents meant a great deal to me as well. I miss them very much, and not a day has gone by that I haven't thought of you."

"We brought you some things. Do you like chocolate, Harry?" Sirius addressed the boy, reaching inside his cloak for the bag.

"I've never had chocolate."

"Never had chocolate?" Sirius asked in mock outrage. "I don't believe it!"

He had meant to tease the boy, but Harry flushed and looked mildly ashamed of himself. The expression left his face as soon as it appeared, replaced instead by sheer wonder as Sirius magically expanded the bag. "How did you do that?"

"Magic, of course," he smiled.

"Uncle Vernon always says there's no such thing as magic," Harry responded, and it was obviously a practised line, something he had heard quite often.

"I believe you'll find, Harry, that not everything your uncle has told you is true," Remus answered wryly. "There is indeed magic."

"And you can do it," Sirius added.

"Me?" Harry asked in surprise.

"Your parents were both magical, Harry," Sirius explained. "They were quite excellent, too. Your dad was very talented, and your mum…well, she was brilliant. I suspect you'll be just as good as them someday."

"No I won't," Harry shook his head sadly. "I won't be good at anything."

Sirius shared another troubled look with Remus, not at all liking the terrible things Harry said…terrible things that he must have heard from somewhere. "I bet you've already used some powerful magic, Harry. Have you ever made things happen by accident? Maybe when you were upset about something?"

"One time I made my cousin fall," he admitted. "But I didn't mean to! It was an accident! He – he took my breakfast, and then I made him fall."

Sirius had to fight back the roar of laughter. "Nothing to be worried about, Harry. I suspect your cousin deserved it. Now tuck in to some of these sweets," he encouraged.

Harry's eyes widened at the stack of sweets in front of him, and he eagerly reached for a chocolate. He was amazed by the card inside and the way the little wizard disappeared, and he was even more amazed by the way his little frog hopped. Sirius helped him catch it, and then Harry happily ate it and laughed in delight. It was the first time he'd really smiled, and the sight threatened to melt Sirius's heart. The toys and sweets seemed to bring him out of his shell a bit, though it worried Sirius that he'd never tasted chocolate and seemed so terribly surprised that the gifts could possibly be for him. By a year old, Harry had already amassed more toys than any child could ever need, including quite a few gifts from his godfather. Lily always scolded him for spoiling Harry too much, but he defended himself, reminding her that he was going to be the world's best godfather and it was his prerogative to pamper the little boy. He'd fallen dreadfully short of that mission, but now was the time to make up for it.

The three of them played for hours in the small garden, enchanting Harry with the toys they brought, both magical and muggle. Harry seemed remarkably easy to please with a sweet, good nature about him that Sirius easily recognised as inherited from his mother. He was also more shy than Sirius anticipated, far more quiet than any six-year old had a right to be. He didn't grab for toys or sweets, waiting for them to be offered to him, and even then he took them all with an almost guilty look about him. Sirius hadn't been around that many children, but having been a six-year old boy himself once, he knew boys of this age were not known for politeness. Harry, on the other hand, was unfailingly so, apologising when he had no need and frequently calling them "Sir" instead of by their names, as they gently insisted over and over. In some ways, it was sweet to see what a wonderful child he was. In others, it seemed rather sinister and abnormal. Sirius would like to open him up a bit more, assure him he had no need to worry about manners with them, that he could be loud and rambunctious as he wanted without fear of punishment. Perhaps in time, though, he would come around.

Their playtime unfortunately ended too soon when Petunia yelled harshly for Harry. He instantly straightened and looked at them sadly. "You probably have to go now. I have to do my chores."

"That's quite all right, Harry," Sirius smiled at him. "We'll be back as soon as we can."

"You'll come back?" he asked in surprise.

"Of course we will. I'm your godfather, remember? I'm going to look out for you from now on."

"Do you think Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia will let us play again?"

"I'd like to see them stop me," he answered without thinking.

Remus gave him an accusatory glare. "What Sirius means, Harry, is that it isn't up to your aunt and uncle to decide whether we can see you."

"Nothing will keep me away," Sirius promised, reaching over to brush back a bit of Harry's hair from his forehead. He had to cover his wince as he spotted the lightning bolt scar; he remembered it far too well from the night he pulled Harry from his crib in Godric's Hollow, but it was still a painful reminder of all Harry endured and what his innocent eyes had witnessed but not understood.

"I have an ugly scar," Harry lamented.

"Everyone has scars, Harry," he tried to comfort. "Yours is nothing to be ashamed of."

"I got it in the accident."

"Accident?" Remus asked in confusion.

"The car crash. When my mum and dad died."

Sirius drew in a harsh gasp, horrified that even those awful muggles could tell such an egregious lie to a little boy. Lily Potter died protecting her son from a terrible fate. She threw herself in front of the worst curse known to wizarding kind to save the boy she loved more than herself. His dad died for the same cause, for something noble and good and right, and Harry deserved to know that his parents were heroes. Lily and James Potter were not victims of circumstance. They were chosen, because of Harry and because of who they were, and they never once backed down in the face of danger. They protected their ideals and the boy they cherished in their final moments, and Harry deserved to understand how fiercely his parents loved him. Harry deserved to know that he had been the only one to stop Lord Voldemort, that in their world, he was a hero.

Unfortunately, he was given no time to explain these things to his godson. "Harry!" Petunia demanded shrilly.

"I have to go," Harry frowned.

Deciding to take a chance, Sirius moved over and carefully embraced Harry. The little boy grew stiff in his arms, as though not sure what to do, but after a brief hesitation, he threw his arms around his godfather's neck and allowed himself to be hugged. "We'll see you again soon, Harry," he promised.

"Bye, Sirius. Goodbye Remus." With that, he jumped up and scampered away.

Later that evening found Sirius, Remus, and Dumbledore gathered around Remus's small kitchen table. But Sirius didn't stay seated long, angrily storming out of his chair and pacing around the kitchen. "It's an outrage!" he shouted. "They've told Harry his dad was a drunk and that James and Lily were killed in a car accident!"

"Sirius," Dumbledore addressed him calmly. "Harry is quite young to be learning about what really-"

"They speak ill of James and Lily in front of little Harry! He's a boy, Dumbledore!" he cried in frustration. "He's never known his parents, and those horrible muggles slander their names right in front of him!"

"Remus?" Dumbledore asked expectantly, obviously looking for verification.

Remus glanced to Sirius, and Sirius returned the look with an imploring expression, begging Remus to back him up this time. "The Dursleys have made it very clear they dislike magic and they disliked James and Lily," he agreed. "There seems to be something odd about the way they've treated Harry."

"He's skiddish," Sirius added. "He claimed he'd never had chocolate. Chocolate!"

"I won't remove the boy from his home simply because his aunt and uncle refuse him sweets. I am troubled to hear that they speak ill of the Potters. That could be very traumatic for a boy like Harry, but we cannot act rashly. I want you both to continue to keep an eye on the situation and report to me anything out of the ordinary."

"They told him there was no such thing as magic!" Sirius protested. "It's far too confusing for a boy like Harry."

"Fortunately for Harry, he has a devoted godfather who will be there to explain to him the magical world," Dumbledore answered pleasantly. "I must be going now, but please remember to keep me informed. Should the situation worsen, perhaps then we could discuss alternatives. For now, I am afraid the safest place for Harry is right where he is."

Sirius groaned and returned to the table, dropping his head into his hands. He vaguely heard Remus walking Dumbledore to the fireplace and saying their goodbyes, but he was too focused on his visit with Harry. There was something disturbing about the Dursleys. He'd seen their little terror of a child through the window, and he was decidedly plump while Harry was quite tiny. Of course, Harry came from slim parents and would likely always be thin, and his cousin had that large walrus of a father. Still, it was strange that Harry claimed to have never eaten chocolate before. What little boy never had chocolate? His cousin certainly hadn't missed out on the sweet. It was strange, but worse than that, the insults to his parents bordered on emotional abuse for an orphaned little boy. They were feeding him cruel, vicious lies about two of the best people Sirius had ever known, and he would be sure to watch every move the horrible people made every time he visited Harry…and he intended to visit often.


	7. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Sorry this update took a bit longer than normal. I'm afraid the next one may as well, as I'm getting ready to move. There are three more chapters after this one, and the story is complete except for the last-minute editing I do before I post. Hopefully I'll be able to scatter in those 3 as quickly as possible! Also, there's a sequel to this story that is also well underway. It's less focused on Remus and Sirius, though, and is an H/G story. I hope those of you who aren't disgusted by that ship will join me in that story as well! I'll start posting it as soon as this one is complete! Thanks again, as always, for taking time to read my story. I love being able to share with people who love these great characters as much as I do!

Chapter 6

For the next few weeks, Sirius and Remus visited Harry as often as possible. Remus had managed to find work doing a few odd jobs for an elderly wizard in a nearby town, so sometimes, Sirius went on his own. The Dursleys seemed to behave themselves every time they were around, but Sirius watched their every move, as well as Harry's reactions. Harry was opening up to his godfather now, always voicing his excitement when Sirius showed up and beginning to display some affection through hugs or sitting in Sirius's lap when they played in the garden. Sirius always made sure to bring him sweets, and he'd discovered that Harry had a particular taste for cauldron cakes, but he loved chocolate frogs for the cards and the way the little candies hopped. Harry, it seemed, could not get enough of magic now that he had discovered his true abilities and that such wondrous things existed in the world. Sirius tried to keep it to a minimum when the Dursleys were around, but sometimes it was hard to contain himself when he saw Harry's face light up.

In his second week of visits, he arrived to find Harry's little face streaked with tears. Instantly, he swept the boy outside and tried to ascertain the source of the problem. Harry just continued to cry for a few minutes, so Sirius took him in his lap and smoothed down his messy hair. "Tell me what's wrong, Cub," he encouraged.

Harry said nothing, but he reached into his pocket and pulled out a few scraps of something. It took Sirius a few moments to figure it out, but when he did, he nearly threw Harry off his lap in his rage.

Those horrible people had destroyed a picture of James and Lily. It was one of Remus's, one they found during the hours they searched through the small attic, braving the dust and spiders and even a boggart in order to find remnants of the past to share with Harry. The picture had been their favourite, with a baby Harry in his mum's arms as James beamed down at him. It was a magical photographs, like most of Remus's, so you could watch as James bent down to kiss Harry on the forehead and then smiled at his wife and kissed her forehead as well. It was a sweet picture, a beautiful image of the love the Potters had for each other and for their son. Both men thought it the perfect choice to give to Harry, a perfect representation of his family and what it had meant to James and Lily. They wanted him to know the depth of his parents' love for him, and if it could be put into a photograph, this would be the one. It was probably the only copy of the picture still in existence, since most of the Potters' belongings were destroyed the night of their murder. And Vernon and Petunia Durlsey destroyed it, ripped it into pieces.

"Uncle Vernon wouldn't let me have it," Harry lamented. "Because it's magic and it's bad."

"You listen to me, Harry," Sirius demanded solemnly. "Magic is not bad, and certainly not this magic. This is your family. Your parents, who loved you more than anything in the world. Your aunt and uncle had no right to do this. This picture was yours. Do you understand?" He feared he was being a little too harsh with the six-year old, but he had to make him understand that there was nothing in the world wrong with a photograph of his parents, even one that moved. There was nothing evil or sinister about it; it was just a picture of a baby and the two people who gave their lives for him, the two people who would never be there to watch him grow up, to see what a wonderful man he became, to see who he took after, what he liked, what he disliked, what he became.

"I'm sorry I ruined it."

"You didn't ruin it," Sirius countered. "They did. You are not to blame."

Miraculously, he managed to keep his temper in check. Remus kept insisting he couldn't insult or threaten the muggles each time he went over there like he wanted to. Being hotheaded and rash was no way to get what he wanted, even though restraint when against every fibre of Sirius's being. For Harry, he tried not to let anger get the best of him, though controlling his emotions had become more and more difficult after five years of Azkaban. He stayed with Harry that afternoon, trying to distract him with stories about the Marauders until the tears dried and the laughter returned.

When Harry was called in, however, Sirius followed after him. He sent the boy to wash up, then turned coldly on Vernon and Petunia. They really were the worst sort of people, Petunia a simpering simpleton who cared about nothing except for the neighbours and her worthless slob of a boy, Vernon an overweight buffoon without a meaningful thought in that exceptionally large head of his. "I know what you did to Harry's picture of James and Lily."

"Don't speak those names in my house!" Vernon demanded.

"_James and Lily_," he repeated, "chose _me_ to be Harry's godfather. I will decide what is best for Harry, and having a photograph of his parents is exactly what that child needs after the disgusting lies you have attempted to feed him."

"Now you listen here, you freak," Vernon told him coldly. "Potter is under our watch, and as long as he remains so, your freaky little pictures are staying well away from here! If you're so keen on the boy, why leave him with us all this time?"

It was on the tip of his tongue to lie or offer the same pathetic excuses he offered Harry, but then he decided perhaps it was to Harry's advantage for his aunt and uncle to fear him. "I was in prison," he answered simply, smiling to himself as Petunia blanced and Vernon went even more purple. "Quite a violent crime, too, so if you hope to keep your limbs in their current condition, I suggest thinking twice before you _ever _destroy something of Harry's again."

"We'll call the police!" Petunia threatened. "A criminal! In my home!"

"Go ahead and summon them," Sirius dared. "I suspect you'll find Sirius Black has no criminal record. It was wizarding prison, you see. No records in the muggle world. I do hope you'll keep this in mind next time you upset my godson."

He left that night feeling quite satisfied, and the next time he brought Harry a new picture. This time, Harry did not say a word about it being destroyed.

A few weeks after their first meeting, Sirius was sitting at the Dursleys' kitchen table with Harry in his lap. Though forced outside in the cold for weeks, the Dursleys finally consented to allow them to visit inside, though they were conspicuously elsewhere in the house while Sirius played with his godson.

"Sirius?" Harry asked softly from his godfather's lap as he devoured his chocolate frog.

"Hmm?" Sirius responded warmly, once more relishing in the feeling of having his godson back in his arms. He had missed too many years, missed far too many firsts in Harry's short life, but Harry would remember little of his life before he had a godfather. Maybe Sirius wasn't permitted to bring him home yet, but at least Harry knew that he existed, and at least Harry had accepted his presence easily and without a fight. Today they were on their own, as Remus was working again, but to be honest, Sirius preferred it this way, when he didn't have to share his time with his godson. They had precious little time as it was, and though he in no way wanted to keep Remus out of Harry's life, he couldn't help feeling a little possessive of the boy. Remus loved Harry, of that he was certain, but he would never be able to feel the way Sirius did. Remus hadn't been there as much when Harry was a baby, and Remus hadn't spent the last five years dreaming of the boy. It had been Sirius's job to take care of Harry, Sirius's promise that was broken the night Peter got James and Lily killed. There was something more there, something Remus and Harry would never share no matter how close they became.

"Could I maybe…" Harry began, picking up the card from his chocolate frog and examining carefully as the wizard waved at him and then disappeared.

"What is it, Harry?" Sirius prodded gently, knowing his godson's tendency to be distracted.

"Can't I come and stay with you for a while?" Harry asked hopefully.

The cold heart in him awakened at Harry's easy request. If only he could explain to his godson how desperately he wanted him, how he would do anything – _anything_ – to bring Harry home and never look back, just as he promised to Lily and James six years ago.

"It's okay if you don't want me," Harry added after a moment when Sirius didn't answer.

"Want you?" Sirius laughed aloud. "Now I know you're being silly, Harry," he said affectionately as he ruffled the messy hair that was so tragically familiar. "Who wouldn't want you?"

But Harry didn't smile as if he was joking. Instead, he looked up plaintively at his godfather, a look in his green eyes that greatly surpassed the sadness any six-year old child should know. "Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia," he answered plainly.

Sirius swallowed hard and frowned, glancing inside to the strangle muggles who fussed so over their fat lump of a child. It was obvious Harry was the special of the two, so astute and sensitive and kind, but the muggles did pay a great deal of attention to Dudley, and not once had his aunt or uncle come to check on them to make sure they were faring okay. Suddenly, Sirius remembered several offhand remarks Harry had made to both him and Remus about his cupboard. At the time, they both believed it was the fanciful imaginations of a young child, but every day, Harry revealed a little bit more about his life here with the Dursleys. It was not altogether pleasant, and Sirius was beginning to wonder if Harry's strange remarks were less about imagination and more a reflection of bitter reality for young Harry.

"Harry," he said carefully. "What would make you think your aunt and uncle don't want you?"

"They say I'm strange," Harry frowned. "Am I, Sirius?"

"Of course you're not," he answered easily.

"But the other day I got really mad at Dudley, and I think I made his toy break," he lamented. "I don't know how. I didn't mean it, Sirius."

"I know you didn't," he nodded in understanding. "It's just your magic, Harry. We talked about this," he reminded him. "You're a young wizard. All young wizards have accidents from time to time. It's nothing to worry yourself with. Do you understand?"

Harry nodded and looked down sadly at the empty wrapper from his chocolate. Sirius watched him closely for a moment, noting once more just how small he was for a boy his age who appeared to have a normal, healthy appetite. Harry was downright diminuitive, but every time Sirius offered him food, he ate nearly everything in sight. Even genetics couldn't entirely explain how small he was, and Sirius reached into the pocket of his robes for more of the treats he brought for Harry.

"Are you hungry?" he asked his godson. Harry nodded eagerly and accepted the Honeydukes chocolate. Suspicion rising, Sirius watched quietly as Harry once more gobbled down the sweets as though he hadn't eaten in days. "You have quite an appetite," he told him jovially, trying not to be too obvious with his concern. "You'll have to remind me to bring you more sweets next time."

Harry frowned a little and immediately stopped eating his chocolate. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I didn't have supper. Or breakfast."

"Didn't have supper?" he repeated worriedly.

"I can't have dinner if I misbehave," he answered glumly.

"Whatever could you have done, Harry?" he asked, careful to leave all reproach from his tone.

Harry dropped his head as his cheeks filled with colour. "I dropped Dudley's toy when I was cleaning his room. I didn't try to play with it, honestly!" he defended himself immediately. "It fell over and it broke."

"Harry," Sirius frowned, smoothing down his godson's hair once more. "Why were you cleaning Dudley's room?"

"Earning my keep," Harry answered easily – far too easily, for Sirius's taste. Earning his keep? There was only one place Harry could have heard such awful things at six years old, and it took all of his strength not to march right in there and show those muggles what he was capable of. He wanted to take Harry into his arms, hug him fiercely, and explain to him that six-year old boys did not earn their keep, that six-year old boys deserved all the love and protection in the world, that six-year old boys should not have to clean their cousin's room just to earn a place at the dinner table each night. No wonder Harry was so skinny; the most minor offense revoked his meal privileges. A growing little boy, who needed as much nourishment as he wanted, and poor Harry was deprived of meals each time his aunt and uncle decided he had done something wrong, even though Harry was without a doubt the most well-behaved child he had ever seen. And who wouldn't be, when meals were on the line?

This was the final straw. Sirius would not leave Harry today without a promise that it would soon be over. He didn't care about blood protection or Dumbledore's orders. He didn't care about Lord Voldemort. His godson was being starved, and he would not sit by and let it happen. Today, he would go home and do something about buying a new house big enough for him and Harry, a place all their own. As much as he hated to leave Remus, lonely as the werewolf must be, the little cottage was no place to raise a little boy, and Remus would understand that Harry came first. So today he would just ignore the guilt and stop thinking about Remus in that little house by himself, and he would make sure that the next time he came to visit Harry at the Dursleys, it would be to take him away from here forever.

"You can do better than just stay with me for a while, Cub," he told Harry. "You can come and live with me."

"I can?" Harry asked doubtfully.

"Are you happy with your aunt and uncle, Harry?" Sirius asked him. Harry's little face dropped, but he didn't say anything. "Harry?" he prodded again, hating to push the poor boy but needing to know, needing to hear him say it, just once, so he could in good conscience go to Dumbledore and demand custody once more.

"It's just that they don't like me," he explained in a rush. "But it isn't so bad, Sirius, and I promise I-"

"Harry," he stopped him. "It's all right. Would you like to come and live with me?"

Harry nodded soberly, and Sirius's mind was made up. He made a promise to James and Lily that he would keep Harry safe and happy if anything should happen to them. But Harry was not happy, and with each visit, Sirius became more and more convinced his safety was in question as long as he remained here.

"I need a few days to get everything in order," Sirius told his young godson, "but then I promise to come and get you."

"We can't leave today?" Harry asked, sounding distinctly disappointed.

"Not just yet, Cub, but soon, I promise."

Harry nodded bravely, and Sirius beamed with pride at his amazing godson as he pulled him in for a hug. Harry happily returned the hug at first, but then, suddenly, he whimpered softly and shuddered. It was enough to make Sirius instantly retract, wondering what he had done.

"Harry?" he asked in concern. "Did I hurt you?"

Harry shook his head, but the tears in his eyes betrayed him.

"Let's see then," Sirius insisted, gently prodding Harry's ribs until he produced another wince. He hated to do it to him, but he seriously doubted he would get any honest answers out of Harry. His godson had an infuriating tendency to behave as though nothing was wrong, but he was obviously in a good deal of pain. Gently, Sirius tugged up the hem of Harry's shirt and uncovered a large bruise over Harry's left side. A good deal of his ribcage was a purple so dark it was nearly black, and lifting up his shirt like this revealed just how unnaturally small his godson truly was. His ribs were clearly visible, and his belt was cinched as far as it would go to hold up his too-large trousers. This was not the simple denial of a few suppers when Harry caused trouble – real or imagined - for his aunt and uncle. This sort of thing did not occur because Harry missed a few meals. A boy this thin was being regularly deprived of food, and though a bruise like that could easily be explained by six-year old rough-housing, he'd never once seen Harry get overly excited or wild about anything. He wasn't a physical boy – probably because his relatives wouldn't allow him to be. No, this bruise did not come from a simple accident. This bruise was here because someone put it here. "Harry," he breathed quietly, exercising considerable restraint to keep from completely losing his mind even as his vision went white with rage.

"It doesn't hurt, honest!"

Sirius took a few more deep breaths to keep himself calm. Harry was safe now, he would never be harmed again. Vernon and Petunia would never lay a hand on him again, and from now on, his godson would have as much to eat as he wanted. He would buy Harry decent clothes, clothes that fit him, and he would buy a house-elf, if he had to, to make sure there was always as much filling and nutritious food on the table as Harry ever could have dreamed of. A few weeks from now, his godson would be a healthy, normal size again, and he could forget the sight of Harry nearly wasting away. A few weeks from now, the only injuries to ever mar his perfect godson would be those Harry inflicted himself from flying his broomstick too fast or running in the house or playing a bit too vigorously. No one would ever dare raise a hand to him in anger, and if fate was kinder to Harry than it was to Sirius, he may even begin to forget that there were ever people who mistreated him like this.

"You listen to me, Cub," he told Harry urgently. "No one is ever to hit you or hurt you. Did your uncle do this to you?"

Harry hesitated for a long moment, then silently nodded. Sirius stiffened again, but he still miraculously controlled his anger. He would have to tell Remus about this later, but for now, he was focused on Harry and Harry alone.

"Harry, I want you to go gather your things. Anything you want to take with you."

"I thought you said-"

"We're going to leave now. You won't ever come back here again." He pressed a kiss to the top of Harry's head, then carefully set him down. To his horror, Harry headed directly to the cupboard under the stairs. Sirius watched for a moment, nearly crying aloud in his grief and frustration, as Harry unintentionally revealed his living quarters for the last five years. There was a small cot inside, as well as all the toys Remus and Sirius had given him. They barely fit, but Harry had made room for them, shoving some of them under the cot and leaving some of them on top, so that he must have to sleep with some of them nearly on top of him.

"Boy, what are you doing?" Vernon demanded as he stormed down the stairs, rattling Harry's small sleeping space.

"Harry is packing his belongings," Sirius announced before Harry had the chance to say anything. "We'll be leaving shortly."

"Where are you going?" Vernon asked suspiciously. "We didn't say you could take the boy anywhere. He still has chores to do."

Sirius's new wand was still safely stowed in the pocket of his cloak, but his fingers itched desperately for the slim, smooth wood between his fingers so he could teach Vernon Dursley a lesson, one he wouldn't likely forget. "Harry will not be doing your chores tonight. Or any night ever again. I'm taking him with me, and he won't be coming back."

"Now you listen here, Black! We've fed the boy, put a roof over his head, and it will be up to us-"

"Fed him?" he laughed darkly. "He's barely been fed in weeks! Everything goes to your fat little slob! Now, I don't fancy returning to Azkaban, Dursley, so stand aside and allow us to leave, and it will be the last time you hear of us. But I'm warning you, if you so much as think about laying a hand on my godson again, I will give you good reason to fear magic."

Vernon's face turned an absurd shade of purple, but Sirius stood before him calmly. "You – you-" Vernon began to stammer.

Sirius reached into his robes and began to withdraw his wand. "Leave us be," he demanded coldly. "And you will have nothing to fear. Harry," he addressed his godson. "Are you ready to go, Cub?"

"Yes, Sirius," he nodded, his eyes wide at the sight of his uncle and his godfather standing in front of one another, poised for battle. Sirius waved his wand, causing Vernon to jump, but he merely raised his eyebrows at the other man as Harry's belongings shrunk down into a manageable size.

"Tell your aunt and uncle goodbye, Harry," he instructed. Harry didn't move, and Sirius just smiled proudly at this. He reached for Harry's hand, focused very hard on Remus Lupin's cottage, and then the two of them left Privet Drive for the very last time.

* * *

><p>Remus did not want to be jealous of Sirius. Although the last five years of his life had been far from ideal, filled with loneliness, regret, and yearning for the past, he was free and mostly well, poor but never hungry, alone but not in terror. He missed his friends, missed Harry, but he didn't have the burden of responsibility on his shoulders, and he certainly didn't have dementors breathing down his neck and forcing him to relive his most painful moments while simultaneously stealing every good memory. He ached for his fallen friends, but he could still think fondly on the good days at Hogwarts, the camaraderie they once shared, the mischief they used to find themselves in. Even during his school days, filled with the painful transformations and the constant fear of being caught and exposed for what he was, he had good, caring parents who wrote to him in concern, who looked after him, who listened for hours each time he returned home filled with tales of the Marauders.<p>

He did not want to be jealous of Sirius, who had suffered so much for so long. Though popular and bright and talented through Hogwarts, his family life left much to be desired, and though James and Sirius never spoke of it, Remus knew something terrible had happened to drive Sirius out of his home one fateful summer evening when he was sixteen. For five years, Sirius languished in the worst place imaginable, his body nearly destroyed and his mind and soul even more broken than his starved and freezing shell. If ever anyone deserved something good in his life, it was Sirius.

All the same, Remus _was_ jealous. He had been for quite some time. It never seemed fair to him that he suffered through monthly transformations since the age of five, and though he never complained about this injustice, he felt it. He felt it when James proudly named Sirius godfather of his firstborn son, felt it when he watched James marry Lily. These were things he never imagined for himself, but they hurt all the same. James and Sirius had always shared a bond that Remus could not be a part of, and he had always known when the time came, it would be Sirius called to that special honour for Harry's sake, but it was still difficult to watch. After all, he loved the boy, too. James had been a dear friend to him, too, and he always adored Lily. Harry was the first child of a Marauder, and they loved him for it. Though he started to distance himself after a while, going deep into werewolf territory for the Order and finding himself torn in every direction, the little Potter family was always a safe haven to him. Lily would insist on feeding him, James would sit down and play chess with him, talk with him like everything was normal, and Harry would smile that silly little smile of his and Remus would feel like maybe they could win this war, maybe they could all survive this.

Now the Potter family was gone, and though Harry was always happy to see him, it was Sirius he ran to. When they arrived for their visits, he hugged Sirius first, hugged Sirius longest. His eyes lit up when he saw his godfather, like somehow he just knew Sirius would be the one to take care of him. It was hard to watch, hard to feel left out of the relationship he desperately wanted. He could never have his own child, would never take that risk, and he would probably never find a witch willing to accept the inherent danger of his condition. He would be alone, and though he now had both Sirius and Harry back in his life, the two of them had something special he could never be a part of.

Today, Sirius was spending the afternoon with Harry while Remus had to work. He could still probably make it for part of the visit, but the fact that neither Harry nor Sirius would care much made him less inclined to Apparate to Surrey. He knew it was petty and he was acting like a child, but he was feeling particularly melancholy today. Doing odd jobs for elderly wizards was hardly his idea of fulfilling and meaningful work, but he'd been out of work for quite a long time now. He refused to allow Sirius to pay him to live in the cottage, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to get by on what he had. He had paid for food and potions when Sirius was too ill to get out of bed, and now he was struggling but too ashamed to accept anything from his wealthy friend. Before long, however, he would probably have to accept it.

He was contemplating that grim reality when he heard the familiar pop of Apparition. He expected Sirius to be out much longer, so he followed the sound into the kitchen. "Sirius!" he cried in alarm when he spotted a wide-eyed and pale-faced Harry standing in the middle of the kitchen, hand tightly clenched around Sirius's arm.

"All right, Cub?" Sirius asked the little boy, completely ignoring Remus. Harry nodded mutely, and Sirius managed a smile and ruffled the boy's hair. "A bit difficult the first time."

"Sirius, what have you done?" Remus demanded.

"I couldn't leave him there," his friend shook his head.

"You know what Dumbledore said."

"Dumbledore can-" Sirius stopped abruptly and looked down at his young godson. "I gave Dumbledore a chance, did what he said," he managed a little more calmly. "But I will not leave Harry with those muggles."

"Sirius," he sighed, then gazed at Harry, who looked so frightened and confused that Remus felt his heart break just a little. Scolding Sirius in front of him would certainly do no good, and Harry adored his godfather so that there would be no benefit to having this conversation in his presence. "Harry, how would you like to look at a book? A very special book with moving pictures?"

Harry said nothing, shell-shocked back into reticence, but he nodded and looked up to Sirius as though asking for permission. Sirius forced another week smile and gave Harry a little push forward, allowing the boy to follow Remus into the living room. There were no real books for small children, but he had a few things at least interesting enough to keep Harry's attention with the pictures, so he got the boy settled on the sofa with a few books and then returned to the kitchen.

"Of all the rash, reckless things, Sirius," he immediately began, disappointed that his friend had once more made a terrible error in judgment.

"They hit him, Moony!" Sirius cried in indignation. "They starve him, keep him in a cupboard, and half his ribcage is bruised! I will not be lectured on _Dumbledore_ or keeping Harry _safe_ when they could bloody well kill him!"

Remus felt as though he had been punched and grasped for the back of a chair to steady himself. _No,_ he thought desperately. _Not Harry. Please not Harry._

"I hugged him and he winced, Remus. He was in pain. He tried to act as though it was nothing, but he was hurting. Don't ask me to send him back there," he said darkly. "Harry, Remus," his voice cracked. "Our…Harry."

Remus thought of the little baby he used to hold in his arms, the little baby James and Lily loved so dearly. The thought of someone raising a hand to him made him feel physically ill, and no matter what Dumbledore said, he knew that neither he nor Sirius would ever let Harry return to the Dursleys. "We have to tell Dumbledore," he managed after a long silence.

"Moony, I-"

"Relax, Sirius. We won't let him take Harry. But he must know."

Sirius nodded and followed him into the living room where Remus placed a floo call to Dumbledore, securing in appointment in the next twenty minutes or so. Harry remained content and quiet on the sofa with his books, and Sirius had sat down next to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Moony, can you heal him? Out of practise, I'm afraid."

"Of course," he agreed.

"Harry, Moony is going to fix your ribs," Sirius explained.

"Will it hurt?"

"You won't feel a thing," Remus promised. "And then you'll feel all better."

Harry nodded his consent, and Sirius helped him lay down and get situated on the sofa as he pulled up the edge of his shirt to expose the bruised flesh underneath. Remus fought a wave of nausea as he looked at the boy, understanding now Sirius's panic and sudden decision to take Harry from his home today. His oversized clothes had covered just how small he was, and it was clear he hadn't been adequately fed in quite some time now. His pale skin was mottled with bruising so dark it nearly looked black, and Remus sucked in a deep breath as he imagined how that must feel. Even worse, he'd been hit more than once to create this sort of injury, so each blow had likely been increasingly painful.

"This may twinge, Harry," Remus warned, "but I need to make sure your ribs are all right." He waited for an instant so Sirius could move closer and smile reassuringly at his godson, then gently began to prod the bruised area. Harry immediately flinched, but he remained as silent and still as possible as Remus checked for any broken ribs he would need to heal. "Deep breath, Harry," he instructed, pressing a little harder on his ribs as Harry sucked in a big breath. Thankfully, that horrible uncle of his managed only to bruise him, so the healing spells would be sufficient to put him right again. He waved his wand, muttered the incantations, and watched as the bruises vanished.

"It went away!" Harry said in surprise.

"How does it feel?" Remus asked, once more prodding the area that the bruise had just been. "Does that hurt?"

"No," Harry shook his little head. "How did you do that?"

"Magic, Cub," Sirius grinned. "Uncle Moony always patches things right up."

All fear and trepidation vanishing, Harry sat up with a huge grin threatening to crack his face as he threw his arms around Remus. The werewolf chuckled in surprise but gladly accepted the hug, gently rubbing Harry's back as the earlier jealousy began to ebb. He may not be Sirius, and he may not be Harry's godfather, but he would still keep this boy safe…from Dumbledore, from the Dursleys, and from anyone else who dared threaten his health or his happiness. For the first time in five miserable years, he had a friend again, and he had Harry. For once in his life, Remus Lupin felt like a lucky man.


	8. Chapter 7

**A/N:** Thank you to all of you who reviewed, and thanks for waiting for this chapter! I'm (mostly) moved and back to writing! The story is almost complete, and then the sequel will begin! Hope you enjoy the chapter! I'd love to hear your thoughts!

Chapter 7

Harry was happily seated at the kitchen table with a large bowl of stew and some pumpkin juice when Albus Dumbledore arrived at the Lupin Cottage. Remus wanted Harry to talk to Dumbledore, but Sirius was a bit concerned that it was all too much for such a young boy and insisted on taking their conversation elsewhere until Harry at least had a chance to eat supper. He wished he was entirely worried about Harry at the moment, but Sirius also had no desire to make Dumbledore comfortable or happy with the arrangements tonight, considering the hell he left Harry in without ever once checking on the boy. In his mind, Dumbledore was as guilty as anyone for Harry's suffering, and he had no intentions of forgiving him tonight.

"I see you have a visitor," Dumbledore remarked evenly. "I was under the impression we had an understanding regarding Mr. Potter."

"An understanding," Sirius snorted in disgust. "Tell me, Dumbledore, how many times have you looked in on Harry in the last five years? How close a watch have you kept on the boy you claim to want to protect? Or was it just me you wanted to protect him from?"

"Sirius," Remus scolded, ever the voice of reason. It was irritating how mild-mannered he was, even when Harry – _Harry_ – had been neglected and abused by the people Dumbledore chose to look after him. The child would have been better off with a werewolf than those monsters!

"I'm in mood to defend myself to anyone who doesn't have Harry's best interests at heart," Sirius snapped.

"Perhaps you should explain yourself, Sirius," Dumbledore suggested as pleasantly as ever.

He rather thought Dumbledore was the one with some explaining to do, but Remus shot him another look, so he tried to temper his anger and take a few deep breaths. Harry was, after all, eating in the other room, and he didn't want to frighten him more than necessary. "Those horrible muggles have been abusing him, Dumbledore. I knew something was off about them from the start. Harry is much too small for a boy his age, and far more timid than he has any right to be. I hugged him today, and he winced in pain from where they hit him!"

"I saw it myself," Remus chimed in. "I healed the bruising and his ribs seemed to be all right, but it must have been very painful for him, especially as small as he is."

"They don't feed him!" Sirius continued, feeling himself beginning to lose control as he remembered again the small, bony figure beneath the oversized clothes. "He was made to work for them like a bloody house-elf, and at any perceived slight or the smallest of mistakes, he was deprived of meals!"

Dumbledore frowned at this, his eyes darkening a little. "Remus?" he asked, turning to the other man. "Is this true?"

"Harry has told us about missing meals, and there is no other explanation for how malnourished he appears to be. It's unhealthy, Professor, and if Sirius had not taken Harry today, I would have gone back and taken him myself."

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully and grew silent. Sirius sat anxiously, watching the old man and glancing over to Remus to see him nervously observing Dumbledore as well. Remus respected their former headmaster a great deal, considering everything he had done to make Hogwarts possible for Remus as a child. Sirius knew that he did owe at least some small debt of gratitude to Dumbledore for aiding in his rescue and pardon by the Ministry, but no matter what Dumbledore said, Harry was not going back to the Dursleys. His godson was too precious to be treated like a slave by the likes of Vernon and Petunia Dursley.

"This creates quite a dilemma," Dumbledore finally announced. "I am afraid that permanently removing Harry from the protection of his aunt and uncle is ill-advised at this point in time, although-"

"No," Sirius cut him off coldly. "I don't care about the sodding blood protection. It's of no use to him if he starves to death! It's of no use to him if they beat him! He slept in a bloody cupboard!" he exploded.

"Let us remember our young visitor in the other room," Dumbledore chided.

Sirius laughed maniacally and felt himself going a little unhinged as Dumbledore pretended to care about Harry while simultaneously insisting on sending him back to relatives who would almost certainly kill him before the age of eleven. "It's quite rich that you speak of protecting Harry when you would allow him to starve in a cupboard," he spat at the headmaster. "But mark my words, Dumbledore, if you try to take Harry from me, you will never see him again. I _will_ take him, and we'll disappear."

"I have to agree with Sirius," Remus spoke up again, "though I obviously disapprove of his methods." He gave Sirius another sharp look, but Sirius would not be cowed by threats or looks of reproach anymore, not when his godson's life and happiness were at stake. If he had to defy Dumbledore, if he had to leave his only friend behind forever, he would do it for Harry. Remus had been a dear friend to him, and he was eternally grateful for his support and care, but Harry was more important. Harry would always be more important. If it came to it, he would take Harry and run and never look back. "We simply cannot allow Harry to return to that home," Remus continued. "Perhaps it would be best if you saw for yourself how severe the situation is."

"I should very much like to see Harry before any decisions are made," Dumbledore agreed. "Sirius?"

Reluctantly, Sirius went to retrieve Harry from the kitchen. Only half of his dinner was eaten, and the poor child looked frightened once more as he sat quietly at the table. "Hello, Cub," he tried to smile kindly at Harry, reassuring him that nothing was wrong. "Someone is here who would like to see you. He's a professor…a teacher," he explained. "He knew your parents."

"You shouted," Harry said quietly.

"I know," he nodded, feeling the first pang of regret all night. His temper got the best of him, and he had forgotten that the traumatised child would be frightened by raised voices. "I'm sorry, Cub. I didn't mean to scare you. There's nothing to be afraid of, though. Professor Dumbledore just wants to see you for a few minutes."

"Is he going to make me go back?"

"No, Harry," he shook his head. "Even if he tried, I would never let him do that. I meant what I said today," he promised. "You never have to go back to your aunt and uncle. All right?"

Harry nodded and allowed Sirius to take his hand and guide him into the living room to meet Dumbledore. The old man smiled warmly at Harry and did a bit of magic for him, instantly bringing out a shy smile, though Harry still remained tucked close to his godfather. "Harry," Dumbledore addressed him kindly. "I understand you have had a very eventful day today, but I'm afraid I need you to tell me just a few things about your aunt and uncle. Have they ever harmed you?"

Harry nodded, but said nothing.

"Sirius and Remus said they hit you. Is that true?"

Another nod.

"Harry," Dumbledore began again, a bit more insistent this time. "I need you to tell me if your aunt and uncle have not taken good care of you. Can you do that?"

"It's all right, Harry," Sirius encouraged. "Remember what I promised."

Harry looked up at his godfather uncertainly, but Sirius just nodded and smoothed down his hair. "They don't like me," he told Dumbledore after a moment. "Because I'm a freak. Except Sirius says I'm not because I don't mean to do magic, and magic isn't bad."

"That's quite right, Harry," Dumbledore agreed. "There are some who do not understand, but magic is nothing to be ashamed of. You are a very powerful wizard, as you will learn someday. Can you tell me anything else about living with your aunt and uncle?"

"Sometimes I'm not allowed to eat. If I do something bad."

"Bad?" Dumbledore inquired gently. "What is bad, Harry?"

"When I don't clean Dudley's room right, or I burn food. But I don't mean to!" he said quickly.

"Harry, you're just a little boy," Sirius tried to comfort him. "Little boys shouldn't be making the meals or doing the cleaning. You haven't done anything wrong."

"Thank you for telling me, Harry," Dumbledore nodded. "I have something you may like. Have you had a Chocolate Frog?"

Harry's eyes lit up as he nodded eagerly. "Sirius and Remus bring them to me! And they hop!"

Dumbledore laughed at the sudden enthusiasm and reached into his robes, extracting the familiar box and handing it to Harry. "Sirius, I think perhaps Mr. Potter should be retiring to bed. Remus and I will continue our discussion until you return."

Sirius understood he was being dismissed for now, and though he didn't like it, it was getting late. They had already decided Harry would sleep in the guest bed for tonight and Sirius would sleep on the sofa, so Harry's meager belongings were already stored in the extra bedroom upstairs. Sirius took his godson's hand and led him up the stairs, then assisted him in dressing in the too large pyjamas and washing up before bed. Harry ate his chocolate before brushing his teeth, and by the time it was all done, his little eyes were drooping heavily from the exhaustion of his gruelling day. "Would you like a light on, Cub?" Sirius asked him as he tucked him into bed.

"I can have one?" Harry asked in surprise.

"Of course," he nodded. "If you like."

"I…I think so."

Sirius smiled sadly and dimmed all the lights, leaving one glowing softly to keep the room from the total darkness he had found so overwhelming himself as a child. "Goodnight, Cub. I'll be just downstairs if you need me."

"G'night, Sirius," Harry yawned, his little eyes fluttering closed.

Sirius couldn't help watching him for a moment, his heart breaking at the sweetness and innocence of this dear boy. He felt a quiver of fear as he realised he was volunteering to take responsibility for Harry now, to be the one who tucked him in each night, who comforted him after bad dreams, who saw to bath time and brushing teeth and meals and discipline. A short time ago, he was a prisoner in the darkest of places, slowly losing his mind and his soul to the always-present Dementors. No one would want a former convict of Azkaban raising a small boy, but he was the one who promised to do this, and he could never allow Harry out of his care again. He had loved Harry from the moment he was born, and he could no longer remember how he survived five years without him. He had to be brave, for Harry and for James and Lily, who had inexplicably trusted him to raise their child.

When he was sure Harry was sleeping, he quietly returned downstairs to find Dumbledore and Remus talking in hushed tones. Remus looked up when Sirius approached, a grim look on his face. "Sit down," he told Sirius.

He did, but he looked to Dumbledore with a hardened expression as he lowered himself to the sofa. "I meant what I said. Harry and I will disappear if you even think about sending him back."

"I agree with you both that Harry cannot return," Dumbledore assured him. "However, there are things you must know about Harry before any final decisions can be made."

From the look on Remus's face, Sirius was quite certain he did not wish to know. Remus looked positively sick now, his face more ashen than usual, his eyes dark and heavy with the burden of this knowledge. "What is it?" he asked weakly.

"James and Lily likely told you about the Prophecy made regarding Harry," Dumbledore began. "The prophecy was the reason they used the Fidelius Charm to hide from Voldemort. What you may not know is that I instructed James and Lily not to reveal to anyone the full contents of the prophecy. Voldemort was made aware of only half of the prophecy, and it was simply safer for them never to repeat the full prediction."

Sirius swallowed hard as he was inadvertently plunged into the deep recesses of memory to the night when James and Lily sat him down to explain. Lily was nearly nine months pregnant at the time, already tired and strained by the extra weight of her baby, and James had looked decades older than the mere twenty years Sirius knew him to be. He had grasped his wife's hand tightly as he quietly repeated the words of the prophecy they both must have known by heart. Lily was unbelievably strong and rarely prone to tears, but he had seen them shimmering in her eyes that night as she silently rested her free hand over the swell of her stomach.

"But…Voldemort is gone," Sirius managed past a raw lump of emotion in his throat. "The prophecy…he's been vanquished."

"I am afraid that only a portion of the prophecy has been fulfilled…a part you have not heard. It was predicted that Voldemort would mark one child as his equal. Voldemort was never made aware of this part of the prophecy, and thus, he did not know of the danger in his attack on the Potters."

"Harry's scar," Remus whispered.

"Quite right," Dumbledore nodded. "The scar Harry bears as a consequence of the curse by Lord Voldemort marks him as an equal, and likely transferred some of Voldemort's power into Harry. Voldemort has not been vanquished, Sirius, and as painful as I am certain this is, you must know what it means for Harry."

"Tell me," he demanded, his mouth dry and his heart pounding. Poor Harry. His poor, sweet, innocent Harry had already suffered so much, and now there was more darkness, more pain. He shuddered to think of anything being passed to Harry from Voldemort, and even more to think that it was not over for Harry, that he would forever live with the burden of his scar, the burden of who he was made before he had any chance to live.

"Harry is the only one who can put an end to Voldemort, but I am afraid it may come at great cost. The prophecy also foretold that neither Harry nor Voldemort could live while the other survived," he explained, sounding, for once, like the old man he truly was. "I had hoped to spare Harry from this knowledge until he was much older, but I see that it has become impossible to keep it from you. I hope you understand now why I have been so reluctant to allow Harry to leave the Dursleys and the blood protection they may offer."

"What…what does it mean?" Sirius forced himself to ask, unwilling and unable to comprehend the horrible words.

"One will have to kill the other," Remus interpreted. "Harry must kill Voldemort himself or…" he did not finish, but Sirius would not have been able to bear it if he had. He choked on a sob as it was, dropping his face into his hands. No…no, not Harry. Not his Harry, not the precious child of his best friend, his brother. Not the child of Lily, who had been so tender, so kind, so unabashedly in love with James and with her son, who had been such a dear friend and confidante to Sirius himself. Not Harry, whom Sirius had always loved and cherished as he would his own son.

"Sirius, I understand how painful this must be to acknowledge," Dumbledore said softly. "But we must decide what will be done with Harry. One option may be to return him to the Dursleys, where he could remain under the blood protection. Of course, we would have to ensure that better care was taken and that the abuse was stopped."

"No," he shook his head. "No, I promised him. He would never understand. He's too young. They treat him like an animal in that house."

"I rather thought that would be your decision," Dumbledore nodded. "I am afraid, however, we are left with few alternatives."

"I can protect him," he vowed. "I made a promise to James and Lily, and I don't intend to break it."

"Your devotion is admirable, Sirius, but you have not fully considered what must be done. The only way to protect Harry would be through the use of the Fidelius Charm."

"You must be joking!" Remus cried in disbelief, finally growing incensed. "James and Lily-"

"Were betrayed," Dumbledore finished for him. "But the Charm is very powerful, Remus, and if the proper Secret Keeper was chosen, it would be possible to keep Harry safe until the time arose for him to fulfill his destiny."

"How long might that be?" Sirius asked dully. He didn't like the idea of using the Fidelius Charm any more than Remus considering what had happened the last time, but this time, he would not make the same mistake. This time, he would not allow himself to be tricked. This time, he would die before any harm came to Harry.

"There is no way to be certain. There have been signs, but nothing that could tell us when Voldemort could return to threaten the peace and safety of the wizarding world. But do understand, Sirius, what this would mean not only for yourself, but also for Harry," he advised. "I have no doubts that the Dursleys would object to Harry attending Hogwarts, but he would be allowed to come. If he is hidden by the Charm, he would remain in hiding as long as possible. It might mean never going to Hogwarts or having friends. He could only leave if it was absolutely necessary, and even then only in disguise. He would be condemned to a life in secrecy for his own protection."

Sirius dropped his face into his hands once more as he fully realised the weight of this decision, this decision that was suddenly his to make. _Why did you go, James?_ he wondered miserably. _Look what's happened here without you. This should never have been my choice to make for your son. _

"When must we decide?" Remus asked quietly.

"Tonight," Dumbledore answered firmly. "Harry has been through an ordeal, and as long as he is kept away from his aunt, he is in constant danger. I understand the difficulty, but we must decide what is right for Harry."

Sirius tried to think of Harry returning to the Dursleys, tried to think of how he would explain to the little boy why he could no longer remain with his godfather. They would be there, to be certain, always making sure that Harry was fed and kept safe, but Vernon had already demonstrated a willingness to be violent with a little boy and obvious disdain for wizards. What if he simply grew tired of it and decided to kill him? And what of Harry's emotional care? His aunt and uncle would never provide him with the support and love he needed to fulfill this dark destiny of his. On the other hand, keeping him would mean robbing him of any chance at a normal life. _What do I do, James?_ he silently asked his friend, desperate for some sort of answer. He couldn't bear the idea of disappointing James and Lily, but how could he know what they would want for their son?

Memories returned unbidden, almost as though the dementors were once again torturing him with the past. He saw James beaming at his little boy, tossing him up in the air and watching him giggle. He saw Lily, holding Harry close and humming to him a lullaby. He remembered being there himself, playing peek-a-boo with Harry and watching him laugh with delight. _Our little cub_, James had called him. The youngest member of their pack, certain to be as mischievous as they had been but also touched by a sweetness and a grace that was all Lily. James and Lily would want Harry to be cherished, just as they had cherished him. For two people who had so often fought through their years at Howarts, James and Lily had grown into a beautiful couple who loved each other so deeply Sirius could scarcely understand. They had seen themselves, their real selves, in one another, and when Harry was born, he was an extension of that love and that beauty. He was a gift, not a burden to be dealt with, not a charge to be locked in a cupboard or made to work like a house elf. James and Lily would want him to grow up with someone who could love him, and Sirius had made them a promise. He vowed to be that person, no matter the cost. Harry might never have a normal life, but how could he? How could he when he was destined to be killed or become a killer? They were fooling themselves if they ever believed he could have a normal life, and whatever was left would be marked by suffering if he returned to the Dursleys.

As though he had come to the same conclusion, Remus reached over and laid a hand on his arm. "He would choose you, Sirius," he said softly. "Harry wants to be with you."

"You must be certain, Sirius," Dumbledore added. "The Charm must be performed as soon as possible, if that is what you choose."

It felt like a great weight was resting on his chest, making it difficult for him to breathe as this all happened far too quickly. He wanted Harry, he had always wanted Harry, but suddenly he was here and nothing was as it should be. He thought he would retrieve Harry and take him to live in the country somewhere, that they would play Quidditch and plan pranks, and at age eleven, Harry would go away to Hogwarts and continue the Marauding tradition. It would be hard for Harry, not having his parents, but Sirius would be his friend, his brother, his father, and they would be all right. It was never meant to be like this, where Harry could have _only_ Sirius, only a life hidden away, a life with no friends his own age, no school, no fun. But the only alternative was sending him back to the Dursleys, breaking the promises he had made to James, to Lily, and to Harry himself. He knew what he had to do, but he was terrified.

"What…what will he do? About school?" he had to ask.

"You will be his teacher," Dumbledore answered simply. "I will assist, and I imagine Remus will volunteer as well."

"Of course," Remus nodded.

"Harry will need heavy concentration in Defense Against the Dark Arts. You both excelled in that subject at school. I have no doubts he can become a fully trained wizard despite never attending Hogwarts. Is that your decision?"

"Yes," he forced himself to say, the air all pushed out of his lungs as he made the commitment. "Yes, Harry belongs with me. I can…I can keep him safe."

"Very well then. A Secret Keeper must be chosen."

Sirius immediately turned to Remus, knowing there could be no other. Remus was the only other person alive who could possibly care as much for Harry as he did. He was the only person left that Sirius could trust with their safety. "Remus," he said softly. "It can only be you."

"No," Remus shook his head. "No. I…you know what I am! It wouldn't be…no," he refused again. "Dumbledore can do it. Surely it would be safer…"

"Sirius is right. I am an old man, Remus. If I were to die, anyone who knew the location would become Secret Keeper. Anyone who ever had to be told…it greatly dilutes the power of the Charm."

Sirius watched as his friend wrestled with the panic, and he understood far too well what it meant to be the one charged with such a heavy responsibility. He had given it to Peter, in the end, and he would have to live with that guilt forever. It was a terrible burden to carry, but Sirius could trust no one else with Harry's life. "No," Remus whispered. "Surely you don't want me, Sirius. Not after…"

"I failed to trust you once, Moony, and I will forever regret it," he said sincerely. "I trust you now as I should have then. You love Harry. You would never let anything happen to him if it was in your power to stop it."

"Of course I wouldn't, but…"

"I'm sorry to ask you. I know what it will mean for you. But we need you, Moony. I need to know that Harry will be protected, and Harry will need someone to clean up the mess his godfather makes of his life. I trust you," he repeated. "As I trust no one else." He locked eyes with Remus, trying to tell his friend everything he could not say aloud. They shared years of agony and pain, the betrayal at Hogwarts and the forgiveness, the loss of James and Lily, their time apart as Sirius rotted in Azkaban, their struggle to become whole again after the Dark ripped their lives apart. There was no one who understood Sirius better, and there was no one for this role but him.

"When?" Remus finally asked, tearing his gaze away.

"Tomorrow. We perform the Charm tomorrow."


	9. Chapter 8

**A/N: **Second to last chapter! The last chapter just needs editing, and it should be posted soon! I had planned to begin posting the sequel immediately after, but I have a few other fics I've been working on and I may start posting a different one first. The sequel will jump far into the future and heavily focuses on Harry and Sirius, but also brings in my OTP…H/G! Let me know how you like this penultimate chapter and if you're more interested in sequel first or some of my other creative endeavours! Thanks to everyone who has read, reviewed, favorited, and alerted. You're all wonderful, and I sincerely thank you for welcoming me into the fandom!

Chapter 8

They stayed awake for hours discussing the logistics of it all. Several times, Remus was tempted to sneak away to peek in on Harry, make sure he was sleeping soundly away from all this talk about his future and his destiny. He felt physically ill when Dumbledore explained the Prophecy to them, and an irrational part of him wanted to scoop the boy up and just vanish, escape to somewhere far, far away from here where no one would know Harry Potter, where no one could possibly expect him to be the saviour of the wizarding world. He was just a little boy, a six-year old little boy who deserved so much more than he had been given in this world. Harry already lost his mum and dad, lived with muggle relatives who abused and neglected him, and now, would be forced into exile with his godfather.

_Exile_. The thought filled him with his own melancholy as he realised not only what this meant for Harry and for Sirius, but also for himself. From the day he had brought Sirius to stay with him, he knew a time would come that Sirius would want to leave. With every day that passed, Sirius became a little more himself, and Sirius had always been fiercely independent. They both derived comfort from the closeness to one another after so long without friends, but it couldn't last, not forever. It was all just happening a bit sooner than Remus expected, and Sirius would be taking Harry with him. Once more, Remus would be on his own. He would be able to visit, of course, and he gladly volunteered to assist in tutoring Harry in lieu of his Hogwarts education, but once Sirius became Harry's official guardian, everything would change.

But Remus could not bring himself to regret the way things had turned out. Despite their weariness, there was a new hope on Sirius's face. Despite the terror of the prophecy, Sirius had his reason for existing back. He was finally getting the boy he had missed and longed for since James and Lily were stolen from them, and in return, Harry was finally getting a guardian who would love and cherish him. The two of them deserved each other, even if it meant Remus was once more alone in his lonely little cottage.

It was long past midnight before the details were worked out. They needed a house for Sirius and Harry to call home, and Sirius had quite a few ideas for what he wanted. Remus had grown frustrated when each option was rejected, but Dumbledore was exceedingly patient until they finally chose an out-of-the way country home, complete with a garden large enough for Harry to learn to fly and play Quidditch. It was a comfortable looking home in an idyllic setting, the perfect place for a little boy to grow up. There would be few adventures for him outside his new home, but the house was big enough and nice enough that it would perhaps, in some small measure, make up for his incarceration.

When Dumbledore left, the two men remained staring at the fireplace, the enormity of what was happening weighing on both of them. Remus had vowed to become Secret Keeper, and he was terrified, worried, haunted by the failure of the past. He would die before he would betray Sirius or Harry, but it very well might come to that. He didn't want to even think of Harry – or Sirius - being in that kind of danger, much less being the one responsible for making sure they were protected. It was a huge burden, one he didn't want. He was a werewolf, a Dark Creature, surely not the type anyone would want in charge of a little boy's safety. But he owed this to Sirius, he owed this to Harry, and he owed it to James and Lily. He hadn't done nearly enough to save their child from five years of lonely neglect, and now he had to pay penance.

"I know you don't want to do this," Sirius acknowledged, as though reading his friend's mind. "I remember my horror when they asked it of me."

Remus said nothing, unable to deny his reluctance for this task.

"I know…I can do nothing to repay you for what you've already done for me." Sirius's voice broke a little with the words, and Remus felt the heavy weight of guilt return to his heart. "You saved my life, Moony. Saved my mind and my soul. And now you're saving Harry."

"I should have done more, and much sooner."

"Stop with that, Remus," Sirius scolded. "You couldn't know. I don't blame you, nor does Harry. You broke me from prison. You kept me alive. I've asked something terrible of you, and…Harry and I will owe you everything."

"You owe me nothing," he managed, voice thick with emotion. "I've been alone, too, Sirius. You don't know what it means to me, having you back, having your forgiveness. Now there's Harry, and I swear to you, I will do everything in my power to keep both of you safe."

"I know, Moony," he nodded confidently. "I meant what I said. I would trust no one else with Harry. And I hope you know that neither of us will accept you vanishing on us for any stupid reason. Harry needs his Uncle Moony."

Remus wasn't quite so certain about that, but he would not allow himself to disappear from Harry's life. He couldn't, not now, not after he had finally experienced human contact again. He had been too long without his friends, and his heart was already breaking as he realised this time tomorrow, the house would be silent and empty once more. Tomorrow, Sirius and Harry would be gone, starting their new life as godfather and godson. He no longer felt even a scrap of jealousy, knowing what a difficult task this would be for Sirius, knowing the heavy weight of responsibility he now bore, but Merlin, Harry was wonderful. He was sweet and polite and the kind of boy Remus would have wanted for himself, if he ever thought he could have his own child.

"We should open the firewhiskey," Sirius suggested.

"You go ahead. I want to look in on Harry."

Sirius opened his mouth to protest, then evidently thought better of it and nodded in understanding. Remus was grateful, too, glad he didn't have to explain to his friend why he wanted to be alone, just for a moment, with James and Lily's son. He silently trudged up the stairs to the guest room that had belonged to Sirius, carefully pushing open the door to gaze in at the sleeping Harry.

He instantly panicked when he saw no child laying in the bed. His heart lurched, his stomach churned, and his blood felt like ice as he frantically looked about the room. He somehow managed not to scream and alarm Sirius, but he threw the blankets off the bed, dropped to the floor and looked beneath it, ran to the bathroom…and nothing. Not a trace of the boy they just vowed to protect. Still breathing heavy, he tried to calm his mind long enough to think what he should do. He had to tell Sirius, and then Dumbledore, and…he paused, his eyes falling on the one place he hadn't searched yet. It made no sense, but somehow, he felt his heart calming as he slowly walked to the closet. Very quietly, he pulled the door open and nearly collapsed in relief at the sight of a tiny boy curled up with his head on the pillow he'd pulled from the bed.

"Harry," he whispered, kneeling down next to the boy and gently ruffling his hair to wake him. "Harry, wake up."

"Remus?" Harry asked sleepily.

"Yes, Harry. What are you doing sleeping in here?" he asked gently.

Harry looked sheepish as he sat up and rubbed at his bleary eyes. "The room is big," he lamented. "It felt scary."

Remus had to shut his eyes against the fury building up inside of him. What kind of horrible people locked a little boy in a cupboard? The Dursleys would never even know what they had done to him, but Harry would likely bear their scars forever. "Nothing will harm you here, Harry," he promised quietly.

"There were weird things on the wall."

Remus couldn't help smiling just a bit, quite certain it was the shadows that Harry had seen. "Sirius and I are just downstairs," he reminded the little boy. "Would you like to try getting back in bed? I can wait until you fall asleep."

Harry nodded silently, so Remus helped him up and guided him back to the bed. He had no idea what he was doing, so he tried to remember what his own mother had done when he was a child and had a frightening dream. He was already a werewolf by Harry's age, but he suspected Harry had dark memories as well. He tried not to think about it, but it stole the breath out of his lungs every time he imagined one-year old Harry witnessing the murder of his parents. Harry might not remember, but his eyes had nevertheless seen what his tiny mind could not comprehend. No one could ever take that away from him, and he would always have to live with the knowledge that his parents died for him.

And that was why Remus would be the Secret Keeper, why he would let Harry and Sirius leave him tomorrow. Many years ago, James risked his own life to protect the werewolf from himself, and Lily had never once looked at him with fear or judgment in her eyes. They saved him from the self-loathing, from the loneliness, and this small boy had been the most important thing in their world. Two of the most wonderful people he knew died for Harry, so how could he stand to do anything less?

Once Harry positioned himself in bed, Remus pulled the blankets up over him and carefully tucked them around his shoulders. He sat down on the edge of the bed, then reached over and placed a hand in Harry's hair. After a moment, green eyes fluttered closed and breathing began to even out. But Remus stayed, just as he promised, making sure that Harry was soundly asleep in the big scary room before he returned to Sirius downstairs. "Good night, Harry," he whispered, leaning over and pressing a light kiss to the boy's forehead, just next to his scar. Then, with one last glance, he crept back out the room.

* * *

><p>Sirius took a swig of the Firewhiskey and then pushed the bottle over to his far-too-sober friend. In the morning, Harry would wake up and their lives would be forever changed. Tonight, Sirius wanted to forget, just for an instant, that he was the 27-year old guardian of the boy who was destined to destroy the most evil wizard in the world. Tonight, Sirius wanted to be the version of himself that existed before Azkaban, the version of himself who drank Firewhiskey with his mates and chased after girls. He loved Harry, he would always love Harry, and he would do whatever it took to keep him safe, protected, happy, but the stakes were raised now. It had been so much simpler hours ago, before he knew of the entire prophecy, before he knew what it meant for the little boy who would now be his own – and only his own. He could not ever bring himself to regret it or wish he'd done a single thing different, but he was worried. The Fidelius Charm brought back terrible memories of its initial failure, a failure that cost Harry his parents and Sirius the best friend he ever had, and now they would once more rely on the complex spell to save them. They would bide their time in hiding until it was time, until Voldemort gained the strength to attack Harry again, and the frail little boy sleeping soundly upstairs would either destroy the embodiment of pure evil or fail and send the whole of the wizarding world to Hell. Harry could never be a normal child, and Sirius could never be a normal parent, all for the good of the rest of the world, all for the chance for Harry to battle with the darkest magic imaginable with no idea of the consequences.<p>

The urge to flee was enormous, to just take Harry and run so far away Dumbledore and the rest would never find them. But that would be no life for Harry, either, and Harry was James's son. He would never be content with running when the world needed him, when he was meant to do something bigger than him. Sirius could not fathom anything meaning more than that little boy, but the rest of the world would not agree with him. The rest of the world would call it selfish to withhold their supposed saviour. And maybe it _was _selfish, but Sirius knew nothing about being a parent, and now he couldn't even act on instinct and love. Instead, he had to go against his every impulse and train his godson to become a killer. The world that had always been so cruel to Sirius Black held no kindness for Harry Potter, either.

His tortured musings were interrupted by Remus speaking for the first time in nearly half an hour. "James would be proud of you," he said solemnly.

"James would be horrified an ex-convict with no experience with children was taking his son into isolation."

Remus gave him a sharp look of reproach. "James chose you for a reason, Sirius. You've been true to your promise, and now you're willing to give up everything for Harry."

"What if I'm rubbish, Moony?" he asked, another wave of fear washing over him as he thought of his precious godson, so sweet and so innocent, so terribly easy to break.

"Harry adores you, Padfoot. He seeks you out when he feels afraid. His eyes always find you. He knows what you will do for him, how much you care for him. Now you have to trust that it will be enough."

"And if it's not?"

"It will be," Remus said with a confidence Sirius wished he could feel. He just felt overwhelmed, terrified, uncertain. He could play with Harry, keep him entertained for a few hours, put food on the table and make sure he ate at appropriate intervals, but there would be questions, there would be tears, there would be scary dreams at night and temper tantrums and a whole world of things Sirius had no time to prepare himself for. At least most parents had the advantage of seeing their child through each phase of his life, but he was jumping in five years too late. He liked to think he knew Harry, but there was still so much to learn, so much Harry was afraid to reveal. There were dark memories lurking inside of him, hidden abuses from his time with the Dursleys, and it would haunt them both for years to come. How could the damaged former prisoner, who never had a real family of his own, possibly offer a child anything resembling a normal or happy life? "Dumbledore saw you together," Remus continued when Sirius did not relax. "He agrees this is best for Harry. And you won't be alone, Sirius."

"Is it selfish of me to take him? I wanted him for so long. Maybe now I can't think straight and do what's right by him," he voiced his fear aloud.

"You're willing to give up everything for Harry. How could you call that selfish?"

"He'll never have a normal life, never be a normal boy with normal friends. He was supposed to have more than us, Moony, not less. He started out a little prince…now he'll live like a prisoner."

"It's no fault of yours," Remus pointed out, but Sirius wasn't so sure. Yes, Harry had been hurt in that house with Lily's sister, but they could have kept a more watchful eye on him and made sure he was treated decently, even if he wasn't adored. They could have kept him safe until he turned eleven, and then he could go to Hogwarts and be a happy, relatively well-adjusted child with relatives who were not warm and friendly and loving, but at least could give him more than Sirius could.

"He might hate me someday for making this choice for him."

"Oh, he might hate you for any number of reasons," Remus teased, unsuccessfully trying to draw him from his brooding. "But I doubt any of them will involve this, Padfoot. You love him and can't bear to see him hurt. Harry will understand."

Sirius took another swig of firewhiskey and imagined the sweet little boy upstairs hating him someday, hating him the way he had hated his own parents. Harry was too young to make this decision, and he couldn't possibly understand what even Sirius, Remus, and Dumbledore struggled to comprehend, but it still felt wrong to take him without explaining what it meant, without telling him that he could never go to school like all the other children, that his only company would be three old wizards. It might sound like great adventure to him at this age, but that only meant that Sirius had even more of a duty to do the right thing. A few hours ago he felt so certain, but now as the night dragged on, bringing morning's reality ever closer, he started to doubt himself and this enormous decision he made for all of them.

"I'm not an expert on children," Remus said after a long moment of silence. "But Harry was not loved in that house. James and Lily would be devastated if their only child grew up that way. You are giving him more, Sirius. However imperfect it turns out to be, Harry will know what you sacrificed for him."

Sirius nodded, trying to make himself believe it. But he had doubted the wisdom of James and Lily's decision even then, before he went to Azkaban. He had never been the wise one among them, never the calm, patient, gentle one. Lily had done much to prepare James for fatherhood, taming him just a bit, turning him into a more responsible version of himself, a version who thought before he acted and put others before himself. Despite what he turned into once a month, Remus was the one they turned to for advice, and Remus was the one who could always quietly think through any problem and produce a rational solution. Sirius had never really grown up, never really recovered from having parents who hated him and a family who blasted him from their family tree just for being who he was. He was smart and clever and resourceful, but hardly the parental type. James and Lily probably never really thought the time would come that Sirius would have to step up to the role of guardian, and he couldn't help thinking they would be horrified by the broken man who would now be Harry's only parent. Every day he felt a little further from Azkaban, but he still relived his torture some nights, and he still had moments of fading from reality, lost in some dark memory.

He shuddered a little as he imagined Harry seeing that, imagined Harry asking questions. He wouldn't stay innocent for long, not in hiding, not with a guardian like Sirius Black. Six years old, and soon he would start having to understand the horrors of the world just because of who he was, who his godfather was. Sirius didn't want to cry in front of Moony, but it would be far worse to break down in front of Harry. The emotions of the last five years were finally catching up with him, the injustice of what had happened and who he had become. He never let himself truly mourn for all the years he lost, how alone he felt in Azkaban with no one out there fighting for him, no one believing in him. He forgave Remus and would do so a thousand times over, but there had been nights he was so cold he was certain he was dying, nights he relived finding James and Lily dead over and over, and in those nights he wanted to scream to Remus for help.

"Sirius," his friend whispered in concern.

"I'm…all right," he managed through tears. _Be strong for Harry, he told himself. Put it in the past. Be strong for him. _Remus reached across the table and picked up his hand, and Sirius flinched at the contact when memories of Azkaban were so close to the surface. "Sorry," he tried to apologise. "Some parental figure I-"

"Stop," Remus demanded with surprising force. "No one would expect you to be perfect at raising Harry, especially after what happened."

"But that's it, isn't it? What happened. What right do I have to be taking on a child, Moony?"

"The right given to you by his parents," he answered simply.

"That was before…"

"Your fear is getting the best of you, Sirius. Hours ago you knew this was the right choice, that James and Lily would want this."

"Look at me. Falling to pieces. I spent five years with dementors. Sometimes I feel as though I'm back there. Harry has helped, but that shouldn't be his job. He shouldn't see me like this. I can't fall apart in front of him."

"You'll do Harry no favours attempting to be perfect for him. Do you honestly think James would have been?" Remus asked rhetorically. Sirius automatically stiffened at the perceived slight against James, but Remus continued anyway. "Neither of us could have asked for a better friend, but James was no perfect father. Imagine the trouble he would encourage Harry to get into. And Lily was wonderful, but she had her own faults. She never missed an opportunity to yell at James, even when Harry was there."

Sirius hated to hear anything less than praise for the friends he put on a pedestal, and it hurt just to hear it. For so long, he remembered his friends in their best days, their happiest days. He remembered the days when Lily was radiant and in love and James was happier than he had ever been. But Remus's words did hold some truth. In the last five years he'd mostly forgotten how irritable Lily could be with James, or how James never thought anything through and just lived to make Harry laugh. They would have tried, for Harry, but they would have made mistakes, too.

"You won't ever replace them, Padfoot," Remus advised, "so don't try, but also don't fault yourself for being less than perfect."

Sirius gazed down at the hand resting on his and took another swig – his last – of firewhiskey. "Always the voice of reason, Moony."

"Someone had to be."

"Certainly never thought it would be the werewolf."

"I did get myself into quite a bit of trouble, for being the 'voice of reason,'" Remus answered wryly. "I see your selective memory is acting up again."

"Oh, you did," Sirius agreed with a crooked grin. "You were just always better at not getting caught."

"It was the Prefect badge. No one thought I was capable."

"Except for those of us who knew better."

"Precisely."

"I suppose Harry should learn to get out of trouble as well as into it. He may not

be going to Hogwarts, but James would be terribly disappointed if we didn't instill a good appreciation for mischief in his boy."

"He's the heir to a legacy. Although, you do realise who he'll be perpetrating this mischief on, don't you?"

"I can't think of anything better," Sirius answered earnestly and took one last shot of the firewhiskey. It burned his throat but brought a peace and a calm and an acceptance of the future he was walking into. It may be terrifying and unknown, but Remus would be there, and so would Harry. A few short months ago, he truly believed he would breathe his last breath in the cold, musty cell at Azkaban, surrounded by dementors and his own horrific memories. A future with Harry, no matter how difficult, was a future he was ready to embrace.


	10. Chapter 9

**A/N: **The end is here! Sorry for the wait this time...I always hate wrapping up a story! I've gotten rather stuck on the sequel and may not begin posting right away. I have another story that I'm ready to start posting, and I may decide to post both once I get unstuck! Thanks to everyone who has read, reviewed, alerted, etc. on my first HP story! So glad to be a part of this fandom! I hope you enjoy this last chapter and let me know what you think!

Chapter 9

"It is done," Dumbledore remarked gravely, lowering his wand as each one of the room's occupants breathed a heavy sigh of relief. Neither Remus nor Sirius had been through this before, so neither knew what to expect. Sirius watched his friend worriedly as the spell was cast by their former Headmaster, but after a brief glow of light that quickly dimmed, it was over. Anyone who walked outside this house would no longer be able to see it. No one would know they were here. No one would know that Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, dwelled within these walls. This house, this lovely new house, would become their entire world until Voldemort could finally be defeated.

But Voldemort had not been heard from in years. Harry could be grown before the Dark Lord rose again. Harry could spend his life in this house with only his godfather, his Uncle Moony, and Professor Dumbledore to keep him company. But it was worth it to keep him safe, and it was necessary to save the world.

The object of so much protection was currently in his new bedroom playing with the books Dumbledore had brought him. Remus had beamed in delight when he saw how taken Harry was the new books, but Sirius just rolled his eyes and vowed to exert some of his own influence over the poor boy. Then again, considering his living situation for the foreseeable future, reading was probably a wise hobby to pick up on. And even Sirius had to admit, it was rather convenient for moments like these that Harry was so content to play quietly on his own in his bedroom. They hadn't heard a sound from him since they left him there in the middle of his big bed surrounded by his picture books. It was unnatural, really, the product of the Dursley's neglect, but at least for now he seemed happy and content, unconcerned about their new living arrangement.

"Now what do we do?" Remus asked uncertainly, finally breaking the silence.

"We still have many things that must be discussed," Dumbledore answered diplomatically. "I believe it would be most wise to begin Harry's training early, before he has reached the age of eleven."

"But won't he be in trouble? The Ministry…"

"Ah," Dumbledore nodded. "The Ministry has been taken care of. With a little creativity, I have found that almost any problem can be solved."

Sirius shared a look with Remus, neither certain they wanted to know exactly how Dumbledore worked his way around the restriction against underage magic.

"To the wizarding world," Dumbledore proceeded, "it must appear that Harry Potter no longer exists. Anyone who knows he is alive could be a danger to him. I have seen to it that his name was removed from the Hogwarts Registry. He will never receive a Hogwarts letter," he explained. "As you know, there are many protective enchantments around your new home, but unfortunately there is nothing I can do to eliminate the Ministry's ability to detect magic in your home. I have, however, ensured that there will be nothing suspicious about magic done here. The home is registered to two adult wizards, wizards who do not actually exist."

The intricacy of it all made Sirius's head hurt. Remus, of course, was as levelheaded as ever. "What about a wand?" he asked.

"That will be harder," Dumbledore acknowledged. "Not just any wand will do, as you both well know. I'm afraid the only option is to take Harry to Diagon Alley to purchase his wand. Ollivander may not be pleased, but it is within a parent's right to purchase a wand for his child before he has turned eleven. As long as you are both disguised, I foresee no safety concerns with a brief outing."

Sirius nodded, secretly planning to buy Harry the biggest and most exquisite ice cream sundae Fortescue's had to offer. If the poor child was going to get out so infrequently, they may as well make it worth it.

They spent another hour discussing Harry's training and education, both magical and otherwise. He could obviously read and write well, but he still had five years of muggle education that he would never complete. Remus promised to help design a course to keep Harry up to par with other children his age, and Dumbledore would see to his magical lesson plans with a heavy concentration on Defense once Harry was old enough to understand such difficult concepts. For now, it was enough to teach him to use his wand, to do simple spells around the house, and just get used to his newfound ability. Most wizards did not learn to wield their magic this young, and so it would be quite an experiment teaching a six-year old proper techniques.

"I shall take my leave then," Dumbledore announced when they had finished planning for Harry's education and made all the arrangments to obtain a wand and the necessary books. "I believe Harry could use some time to adjust to his new home, as well as his new guardian. I shall return in two weeks, if you find that acceptable."

Sirius once more felt his heart rate increase with fear as he realised Dumbledore was leaving, and soon Remus would follow suit. Then, for the first time, he would be alone with Harry in _their _new house, and he would be the lone parental figure in Harry's life. "That's…wonderful," he managed, earning a knowing look from Remus.

"One final thing I must say, Sirius. I implore you to remember that although to you Harry is just a boy, he will mean something far, far more to the wizarding world that will someday need him," Dumbledore advised gravely.

"No," Sirius shook his head. "I will never look at Harry that way."

"Sirius," Remus began mildly.

"No, Moony," he shook his head. "You both need to remember that no matter what that blasted prophecy says, he's still just a boy. He's one little boy. _My _little boy. It's bad enough that he has to live here away from the world. I want to make his life as normal as possible. You won't treat him like The Boy Who Lived. You'll treat him like a boy."

With that, Sirius turned on his heels and headed for the stairwell to check on Harry. When they arrived a few hours ago, Sirius had allowed his young godson to pick his own bedroom. Harry had been delighted even by that small privilege, the grin threatening to split his face as he rushed from room to room attempting to decide which he wanted. In the end, he'd chosen the room at the end of the hallway, which had sloping ceilings and a window seat which provided a picturesque view of their large garden and the forest a bit off in the distance. It was the perfect room for Harry, Sirius decided, not overwhelmingly large, but big enough for him to play in and offering a tranquil view.

"Hello, Cub," he greeted his godson as he stepped into the bedroom. Harry still sat in the middle of his big bed, surrounded by the picture books that kept him so enthralled. Thankfully the home had already been furnished by the original owners, so they hadn't had to worry about buying all new furniture. The décor, on the other hand, needed some work. Much like his own childhood home, everything was a bit dark and depressing, and the house felt and smelled old. Airing it out would help quite a bit, but the dark wallpaper would have to go as well. "How do you like your room?" he asked as he perched on the edge of Harry's bed.

"I like it!" Harry answered enthusiastically. "I've never had a room before!"

Sirius smiled sadly and reached over to muss Harry's hair. His godson smiled back at him, and it made this rotten situation feel a bit better even though he was terrified of being left alone with Harry quite soon. "What do you say we make it a bit more yours?" he suggested. "What colour do you like?"

"I don't know," Harry shrugged.

"Oh, come now. You must have a favourite colour."

Harry just blushed and shook his head. That was something they would have to work on, but he didn't want to push his godson too much just yet. Harry was terribly shy about expressing wants and desires, to the point that it was difficult to get his opinion on many things.

"I liked red when I was a boy," Sirius offered. "I was a Gryffindor, you see."

"Gryffindor?" Harry repeated.

"Do you remember when we talked about Hogwarts?" he asked, waiting for Harry to nod before he continued. "At Hogwarts there are four houses. Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. I was in Gryffindor. So were your mum and dad, and Remus. And our colours were red and gold," he explained. "I liked to make all my things red and gold after I was sorted into Gryffindor." He didn't share, for now, that his parents had hated his Gryffindor décor, or that they hated him, for that matter. Someday, Harry would learn more about his background. For now, he didn't need to think on such things.

"Sirius?" Harry asked after a few moments.

"Hmm?"

"I think maybe I like red and gold, too."

Sirius felt his heart swell with affection for the little boy, and he gathered him close for an impulsive hug. Last night he had been so afraid for Harry, afraid that a broken ex-convict would be no use to a little boy. There were dark times to come, and nightmares that would return, but being near to Harry set his mind and his heart at ease, filling him with a happiness he didn't know he could feel anymore. He felt almost guilty, knowing it should be James and Lily in his place, but they had left their son behind, and their son was the only one who could make him whole again. In death, they protected both Harry and Sirius. _And Remus_, he realised after a moment. He had not yet forgotten what Remus was sacrificing in becoming their Secret Keeper, nor what he had lost now that he was going back to Lupin Cottage alone. Remus had been on his own far too often, unwilling and unable to trust anyone. Sirius would be there for his friend whenever he could, and he would always be welcome in this house, but Sirius had always felt a vague sense of guilt about being chosen over Remus to protect Harry. Remus loved the boy, too, but they all knew his condition made it impossible for him to be Harry's sole provider. When he went home alone tonight to his empty cottage, he would once more be reminded of everything lycanthropy had stolen from him.

There was little Sirius could do to ease the loneliness and the hurt of always being left behind. But he had seen the way Remus was living, the sparse contents of his kitchen, the threadbare clothes. And he could do something about that. It wouldn't be easy to convince his friend, but Remus saved his life and he would not let his bravery and loyalty go unrewarded. "Hungry, Cub?" he asked his godson. "I need to go talk to Moony, and then we can make some dinner, yeah?"

Harry just nodded and returned to his books. Sirius watched him for another minute, then rose and returned downstairs to find Remus already in the kitchen. "How's Harry?" Remus asked.

"He's decided he wants to be a Gryffindor."

"Due in no part to his godfather's influence, I'm sure."

"None at all," he grinned. "I suppose I'll be painting the room red soon."

"The house is a bit dark," Remus admitted.

"I suppose I'll be redecorating," he sighed. "Wouldn't James love to see this? Lily would never have let me live it down."

"They're probably having a good laugh wherever they are," Remus agreed, smiling fondly at memories of their fallen friends. "Sirius Black…Marauder turned housewife."

"There will be no lace or pink frilly things, Moony. I just can't let Harry grow up in a house that rivals Grimmauld, can I?"

"Of course not. You know I'm teasing you, Padfoot. I think James and Lily would be very proud of the effort you're making to give Harry a better life. Harry will be grateful, too. You've come a long way in a very short time."

"Oh, I have no intentions of fully growing up," he assured his friend. "What fun would I be for Harry if I acted like an adult? That's what he has you for."

Remus's smile faltered a little, but Sirius chose to ignore it, for now. Remus had never thought himself deserving of good things, and his guilt over leaving Sirius in prison had done little to improve his countenance. But they had time for these things now, time to mend their friendship, time to show Remus that he was good and wanted and cared for. In time, Remus would come to see that he was important to Harry, that Harry would need that steadying influence in his life.

"I ought to be going," Remus said awkwardly after a moment. "I'll let you and Harry settle in."

"Nonsense, Moony. You'll stay for dinner," he answered decisively. "You've certainly provided me with enough recently. And besides, there's something I want to discuss with you."

"Why do I get the feeling I won't like this?"

"Because you know me well," he grinned, gesturing to the table. Remus stubbornly refused, leaning instead against the counter and crossing his arms over his chest defensively. It was a familiar posture from the werewolf, who desperately needed someone to take care of him but who was so reluctant to allow it. Unfortunately, it was rarely Sirius who was good at talking him out of the moods, and now there was only him to do the job. Tact and grace were not two of his stronger personality traits, and so he took a deep breath and thought carefully how best to approach the conversation. "I'm Harry's guardian," he began slowly.

"Yes, Sirius. We've established that."

"And as his guardian," Sirius continued, blatantly ignoring Remus, "it is my responsibility to provide for him. Food, clothing, education…it's my duty to give him those things."

"I agree, Padfoot, but-"

"As long as you will be tutoring Harry, I expect to pay you for your services."

"No," Remus instantly refused. "Absolutely not."

"Be sensible, Remus. Teaching Harry will take a great deal of your time."

Remus shook his head in something that seemed like disgust, but Sirius also registered a sudden hurt in his expression. He had expected some anger and reluctance, maybe a little shame for being in the sorry state that he was, but hurt? That was unexpected, and Sirius frantically tried to think back on what he said and where he went wrong. "I have been understanding, Sirius," Remus spat bitterly. "I never complained or felt slighted when you were chosen as godfather. I've missed the boy as much as you, but I allowed you to go there and see him on your own. I've accepted that you will be the one to raise Harry. I never thought you would _cheapen_ what little I have left with him."

"Moony, I-"

"Would you allow anyone to pay you for taking Harry?"

"No, of course not."

"Then why would I take your money? I may not have been as close to James and Lily as you, but I did love them, very much. I lost everything the night they died, and their son is all I have left of them, the same as you."

Sirius could see now how he had insulted his friend, but he still needed to make Remus listen. "I know you love him," he acknowledged quietly. "I would never suggest that he means less to you just because I'm his godfather."

"Then don't insult me," Remus shot back.

"I meant no insult, Moony," he insisted. "Please think about this. I know it's difficult for you to find work, and it will be made more difficult when you tutor Harry. It wouldn't be paying you just to spend time with him. It would be paying you to teach him. I would expect to pay any private tutor. Why should you be different?"

"Because he's James's son!"

"And James would want us all to look after each other," Sirius responded firmly. "You looked after me and expected nothing in return. Let me look after you," he implored. "And if you won't do it for me, do it for Harry. You can spend more time teaching him if you aren't looking for other work."

"I'm your friend, Sirius. Not your staff," Remus refused once more.

"Bloody hell, Moony. Of course you're not staff!" he cried in exasperation, beginning to lose his patience. "But expecting you to come here and give up your own well-being is taking advantage, and I won't do it. So you'll accept pay or you won't do it at all."

"Sirius."

"Remus."

"I can't. I can't let you pay me just because I-"

"Don't start with the werewolf nonsense, Moony. I'm well shut of it, to be honest. I want to help you because you're my friend. You saved my life, now you're saving Harry's, and I want you to come here and teach him without worrying if doing so means you go hungry."

Remus seemed to think long and hard about this, obviously not wanting to do it but hopefully seeing the logic behind Sirius's argument. Sirius, of course, would have gladly given a portion of his considerable inheritance to Remus without the tutoring, but the self-sacrificing prat would never accept that kind of kindness. "You're certain you won't allow me to teach Harry unless you pay me for it?" Remus finally asked.

"Quite," he nodded.

"Reasonable compensation only, Padfoot," his friend advised. "I'll accept it as a job. Not charity."

"Then we have a deal."

* * *

><p>"Wonderful, Harry!" Remus praised as a faint light began to glow at the end of Harry's wand. For the first few weeks of his training, they had mostly been getting Harry used to the idea of magic at all, explaining about the wand, the traditions, and, at Remus's insistance, a bit of wizarding history. Sirius had thought to eliminate that entirely from the boy's curriculum, but Remus was able to play the trump card and remind Sirius that he was being paid to give Harry the finest training he could, and in his books, that included history. This week, precisely one month after Harry and Sirius moved into their new home, Remus was working with the young boy on his very first charm. It was simple enough, often taught to first years in the beginning of their lessons, and it had the side effect of being very exciting to a six-year old boy. Harry, of course, had caught on more quickly than anyone anticipated, and within a few hours he was successfully casting the charm, weak though it may be. It was remarkable that a six-year old could control his magic at all, and it heartened Remus to know that Harry would indeed possess formidable powers. The thought of dear, innocent little Harry someday facing Voldemort haunted him at night; knowing that Harry would have the strength, cunning, and ability to defeat him provided some small measure of comfort. "Now Harry," he addressed his pupil. "Do you recall the counter-spell?"<p>

Harry's face wrinkled up in confusion as he concentrated awfully hard. "What's a counter-spell?" he finally asked, looking up guiltily at his teacher.

Sirius snorted from his position on the sofa, and Remus shot him an irritated look. For all of his talent and quick-learning, paying close attention was unfortunately not one of his strengths – something he had no doubt inherited from his father and godfather. "What does _Lumos _do?" he asked Harry patiently.

"Makes my wand light up."

"So what would the opposite be?"

"The light going off?"

"Exactly, Harry," he nodded. "So we use the counter-spell to do the opposite. Do you remember which spell I taught you to undo it?"

Harry thought very hard once more, then lit up in excitement as he remembered. "_Nox_!" he exclaimed, the light instantly fading.

"Wonderful!" Remus declared, his chest inflating with pride at another small success. His very first day with spells, and the boy had already accomplished two. For a boy five full years younger than any first year at Hogwarts, it was quite a feat.

"Sirius, did you see that?" Harry turned excitedly to his godfather. Sirius also seemed to be beaming with pride, a wide grin spread across his face as he watched his godson. Remus had come to expect this little exchange; it seemed Harry was always seeking out his godfather for approval, and Sirius freely gave it. Over the last month, Harry had made huge strides forward in trusting them and becoming more open, though they still had a long way to go to reverse what the Dursleys had done to him. It was clear now that he felt safe with them, certain he would never be harmed in their presence, but he was still a little too quiet and a little too reserved about his feelings. More than once, Sirius reported checking in on the boy at night and finding him curled up in the closet instead of his big warm bed. Each time, Sirius would scoop him up, place him back in the bed, and sit with him until he was sound asleep once more.

"I did see," Sirius confirmed proudly. "Well done, Harry."

"Can I do it again?" Harry asked hopefully, once more turning back to Remus. Remus glanced over to Sirius, but Harry's godfather frowned a little and shook his head. One of the reasons children didn't learn to use magic until they were eleven was the risk of exhausting them too soon. It took quite a bit of energy, and the magical abilities of a child still needed a few more years to develop. By eleven, it did not require nearly so much concentration or strength to control inherent magical abilities. At six, it was quite another story. Since Harry was still small for his age and recovering from five years of neglect, Dumbledore advised spending a good deal of time on theory and non-magical education.

"Remember what we talked about, Cub," Sirius reminded his godson.

Harry looked disappointed, and Remus could tell Sirius was on the verge of relenting. So far he'd done a remarkable job with his godson, but discipline was certainly not his forte. Harry didn't require much of it, but Sirius was loath to deny the boy anything, even when it was clearly in his own interests. Seeing the resolve on his friend's face faltering, Remus decided to intervene. "I think perhaps we need a chocolate break. Harry, what do you think?"

The spell forgotten, Harry nodded eagerly and followed Remus into the kitchen for a mid-afternoon snack. With his new salary, courtesy of Sirius, Remus could actually afford to bring Harry small gifts. It seemed they shared an affinity for chocolate, so more often than not, gifts came in the form of sweets. Harry was slowly but certainly looking more nourished, a healthy glow emerging in place of the previously sallow skin. Sirius was rubbish at kitchen spells, but Remus managed to teach him a few things and Harry was indeed gaining some much-needed weight. Sirius, too, was looking more healthy as the weeks passed, though Remus caught him looking off into the distance from time-to-time, the old haunted expression returning to his features. More often than not, it was Harry who lifted him from his dark moods with some new excitement he wanted desperately to share with his godfather. For Harry, Sirius would shake away the nightmares, push aside the memories, and continue to live. Remus wondered, as he watched Sirius teasing Harry with a chocolate frog, if James and Lily would ever know what a gift their child was. Harry gave Sirius a reason to live again, a reason to move past the horrors of Azkaban, and to Remus, he gave hope and purpose for the first time in five years. Oh, it was lonely returning back to his cottage alone, but he was a frequent visitor here, and when he retired each night to his own bedroom, he fell asleep with the comforting peace of mind that he was doing something good once more, that he was helping, that James and Lily's boy would grow up to know what wonderful people they were. Watching Harry succeed, watching him grow, watching him learn to love and trust his new guardian…it was far more than Remus expected from his life, and so he could not feel disappointed.

When Harry finished his sweets and drank a bit of pumpkin juice, he looked longlingly towards the door that led to the garden. Against Remus's advice, Sirius insisted on buying the boy a toy broom, much like the one he'd given him as an infant. This one was a bit bigger and capable of flying a bit higher while still keeping him a safe distance from the ground. A fall may not feel pleasant, but it would leave nothing other than minor bruises and hurt pride. It wasn't the broom itself Remus worried about, for it would do no harm. But Harry was truly his father's son, and as soon as Sirius taught him to fly a broom, those little green eyes darted outside at every opportunity. Someday Sirius might regret that, when Harry was big enough for a full-size broom and began insisting on pushing his boundaries more than was strictly safe. For now it was mostly harmless, and Remus chuckled at how easily Sirius relented and allow the boy to take his broom outside with careful instructions to stay close to the house where they could see him from the window.

"Perhaps we should go out," he said after a moment as he glanced nervously out the window. Harry was happily playing, zipping back in forth in front of the window, but he was minding his godfather and staying well within acceptable boundaries.

"He's all right, Padfoot. If he goes far, we'll bring him back."

Sirius nodded, but Remus watched sadly as his friend's face grew dark with shadows and his pale grey eyes turned stormy. The episodes worried him, especially since they frightened Harry, but at least Sirius was coming around much faster than a month ago, and at least Harry seemed to forget and move past each incident rather quickly. This was simply the risk they took in allowing Sirius to become Harry's guardian, but it was clear the little boy was far happier and healthier than he had been since his parents' deaths. "Forgive me, Moony," Sirius sighed and leaned back in his seat.

"There's nothing to forgive. You know that."

Sirius nodded and looked out the window again.

"What are you thinking about?" Remus prodded gently.

"It gets harder every day," his friend confessed.

"What does?"

"Looking at Harry and seeing anything other than…other than my boy. My little Harry."

"That's exactly what he is, Padfoot. Just as James and Lily intended."

"But for how long?" Sirius asked softly. "How long will he be this innocent? Someday I have to tell him, Remus. About the Prophecy and what he has to do. Soon we won't be teaching him to light his wand, but to use his wand to kill."

Remus turned to focus on Harry and felt a smile sneak over his face as he watched the boy. But the warmth that spread through him was bittersweet, as he realised with a pang precisely what Sirius meant. Harry should be this happy and carefree forever, but he was already bright and clever and it would be difficult to stop the questions a few short years from now. Soon enough, Harry's innocence would be stolen, along with any chance for a normal life. "You do have to tell him," he agreed sadly. "But he'll have you, Sirius, and I will be here as well. For both of you," he said, hoping his words might instill some confidence and comfort in Sirius. He knew how difficult a task it had been for Sirius to take on a little boy, especially after Azkaban. And Harry was not just any child; he had the weight of the wizarding world on those tiny little shoulders, and he had been abused and neglected much as Sirius had been as a child. The two grew closer every day, but the shadows on Sirius's face reminded Remus that the transition was not as seamless as it might appear.

At just that moment, Harry buzzed past the window again and turned and raised a tiny hand to wave at them, his smile bright and wide on the little face that reminded Remus so much of James. Sirius immediately smiled back and waved his hand enthusiastically. _Not seamless_, Remus decided, _but bloody wonderful for both of them_.

"He's amazing, Moony," Sirius sighed. "Only I hope I don't ruin him."

"Sirius, can you earnestly tell me he ever smiled that way with the Dursleys?"

"No, but…it's incredible, Moony," he shook his head. "A few months ago I was in Azkaban with no hope. Now I have this little boy who looks to me for everything. If he's frightened, he comes to me. He trusts me to feed him and care for him. He wants to talk to me and hear me talk…he likes me to be there, all the time."

Remus smiled a little to himself and bit back the urge to remind Sirius that was how it was meant to be between a parent and a child. He understood because he had two wonderful parents who could give him little but loved him with all they had. His parents had never once begrudged the sacrifices they made to give him as rich and full a life as a werewolf could have, and he had loved them both dearly. When he was a child, he could follow his dad around for hours, just watching him quietly work, listening to his soft but confident voice. Sirius did not know of such things, did not understand how a child could love a guardian so purely and so simply. Sirius learned early and often that his mother would not come when he cried, so he stopped crying. Sirius learned from the time he was old enough to speak that his mother would not indulge childish prattle or sit with him and read him a story when he was lonely and wanted her company. The love Harry had for Sirius was natural and expected, and yet to Sirius, it was a revelation.

"That's as it should be, Sirius," he said gently. "For all intents and purposes, you are Harry's father now."

"I don't want to replace James," Sirius shook his head.

"I know," Remus nodded. "But you love Harry as your son, and he loves you as his father. Don't be afraid of it, Sirius. Let everything happen as it should."

Before Sirius could respond, Harry jumped off his broom and abruptly ran back inside. "Sirius!" he cried. "There's something in the garden!"

"What kind of something?" Sirius frowned.

"I dunno! It looked like a potato, but it was moving and tearing things up!"

Remus laughed aloud in delight as Sirius's face relaxed into a grin. "What do you think, Moony? Should we teach Harry how to de-gnome the garden?"

"Absolutely," he nodded.

"Lead the way, Cub," Sirius said as he stood and took Harry's hand.

Remus followed the two out to the garden, Harry practically pulling Sirius along behind him. The sun was beating down on the garden, warming them up a bit despite the otherwise cold weather, and Harry excitedly pointed out to Sirius where he had seen the little creature. Sirius managed to spot it, then instructed his godson on the fine art of dizzying up the poor little pest and tossing him out of the garden. The commotion, of course, stirred all the ugly little things from their burrows, and Harry threw himself whole-heartedly into the activity like any little boy with an excess of energy and a healthy dose of curiosity.

"Uncle Moony! You need to help us!" Harry insisted after a few minutes.

"Yes, Uncle Moony," Sirius teased.

"Well, if I must," he agreed bemusedly, crouching down in the dirt beside them and joining the little game. Harry was quick to spot the creatures, and he was even faster at catching them.

"Sure sign of a Seeker," Sirius beamed proudly.

"Indeed," Remus agreed. Yes, these two were going to be just fine. _Thank you, _he thought silently, hoping that somewhere James could see them here healing one another with the help of his little boy. _Thank you for leaving us your son. Thank you for giving them both back to me._

A gust of wind suddenly blew, but it was pleasant and comforting, ruffling their hair and stirring the leaves around them. Remus smiled and turned back to Sirius and Harry, certain that James was here with them.

**The End**


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